


I Never Knew (phan au)

by basicallyallthefandoms



Category: Daniel Howell - Fandom, Phan, Phillip Lester - Fandom, dan and phil
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basicallyallthefandoms/pseuds/basicallyallthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Phil bumps into Dan at a party after running out on him 5 years prior, it sparks their friendship up again and leads to something more. Something better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY IS ALSO ON WATTPAD!!!  
> I have written this story on another platform, so if you prefer it on an app, it is on wattpad under the username jekyllandstride, and the book is still called I Never Knew. Please leave comments and suggestions and thoughts because I absolutely live for constructive criticism.

"Babe, are you positive you wanna go?" Zoe asks from the doorway of the bathroom. 

I pause my hair ruffling briefly to glance over at her. "I'm sure, Zoe, trust me," I nod. "I'm obviously going to come for you."

"Okay, but Phil, I don't want you feel like you have to, okay? I don't want you to be anxious because of me," she pouts, crossing her arms and leaning her head on the doorway. 

Zoe's an interior designer and her company is having a big, fancy gala for a new client they finally "caught" as she called it. She's the leading designer for her team, and practically the heart and soul of the company. 

We've been living together for almost a year now, in a cozy penthouse apartment (courtesy of her weekly paycheck) and we've been dating for exactly seven months. Of course we were friends before moving in together, but one thing lead to another and now we're dating. 

"Zoe, please don't worry about me alright?" I approach her, placing my hands on her arms and crouching down so I can meet her eyes, seeing as I'm about an entire foot taller than her. "I love you, and I will be there for you. If anything happens- which it won't- I'll figure it out, alright?" I promise. She sighs, looking down. I tilt her chin upwards so I can kiss her reassuringly, "Okay?"

"Louise will be there it-"

"Okay?" I urge. 

She groans. "Fine," she shakes her head, pushing me back into the bathroom. "But if you're going, you might as well make yourself look decent."

"How dare you," I gasp, putting a hand to my chest in mock offence. 

She scoffs and walks away to change into something fancier, shouting at me from the bedroom. "Also, Louise is bringing a friend, so please play nice," she begs. 

I stick my head out of the bathroom, "What do you mean play nice?" 

"Sweetheart, you get sort of overprotective of she and I," she shrugs, rummaging through the closet in only her underwear. "What do you think of this?" she pulls out a long, dark blue dress and holds it up to her bare chest. 

"It looks nice," I shrug, shuffling to the other closet where my clothes are and throwing a suit onto the bed. 

"I don't want nice, I want the right amount of class and sexiness," she groans, hanging the dress back up. 

"You always look sexy," I respond absentmindedly, pulling the white dress shirt over my head. 

I don't know how I'm going to deal with the anxiety. I'll make sure to stay near Louise and Zoe the whole night, they always know how to make things seem better than they actually are. Apparently the gala will be in some fancy hotel- which we'll be staying at all weekend- meaning not only will I have to interact with these people in less than and hour, but for two more days as well. 

"Phil!" Zoe says loudly. I blink and look over to her, holding a small, strapless black dress up to her. "What do you think of this? Slutty, yet professional?" she asks, doing a little dance. 

"Why don't you try it on, then I'll know for sure," I smile, tucking the shirt into my dress pants. Zoe does this practically every morning to me, begging for advice on what to wear for some reason. Sure, I'm the fashion designer between the two of us, but I don't have enough energy to constantly do what I get paid for for free. 

Yes, we met at university, we were assigned a project together. Apparently to be a designer of any kind you have to take a marketing course, no matter how much you don't want to, and so we both cluelessly took it, barely passing. With both of us majoring in some sort of design, there's constant creativity flowing from our house, almost an overwhelming amount at some points, but overall it's better than having my creativity be one-sided.

"Okay what about this?" she stretches her arms to her sides, now wearing the black dress. It's tight around her hips and thighs, up to her waist, where there's flowing fabric at her bust. I tilt my head to the side. Who made this? I sigh and walk over to my desk, pulling open the drawers to look for a needle and thread, and grumbling about how she should buy my products. "Phil, no, I'll just wear something different, you don't need-"

"Shh, baby, everything's fine," I assure her, just wanting to fix her monstrosity of a dress. I start by pinning the fabric so it's pleated instead of just hanging there under her arms, careful not to prick her. 

"Ow, dammit, Phil, every time!" she flinches, tapping the side of my head in an attempt to reprimand me. 

"Zoe, let me work my magic," I hush her, getting to my knees to start sewing. Thankfully, my head almost comes up to her shoulder even kneeling down, so I don't have to reach to snip away the excess fabric. 

"PHIL, YOU'RE CUTTING IT!?" 

"Quiet, babe," I say, placing the needle between my teeth and tying the thread under her arm. I move to the other side and finish it faster than the first, desperate to get away from Zoe's constant scolding. I stand up, brushing my pants off and winking. "There you go, now it looks great!"

"Dammit, Phil, why do you always do that," she shakes her head, flicking my ear. I catch her wrist in my hand and pull her to me. 

"Because I know what I'm doing, and whoever made this dress apparently, did not," I say simply. She rolls her eyes but stands on her tiptoes, trying her best to reach my mouth so she can press her lips to mine. I simply laugh at her effort and lean down to end her suffering. 

When she pulls away she pats my face, bumping her hip against mine. "Should I wear red heels?" she asks, crouching down to rummage through her closet again. 

I sit on the bed and pull my socks on, trying to remember all the shoes she has and which would look better. "Red heels with a black dress is so common, though," I shrug. "What about those white pumps?" 

"White shoes after labour day, babe? Isn't that a fashion no-no?" she scoffs. 

"It's not after labour day, it's February," I comment. "But alright... how about those dark blue ones with the little strappy doodas?" I ask. "Those would look perfect."

She throws one out over her shoulder and I yelp, throwing my hands up to block it from hitting me in the face. It smacks against my hands and I struggle to catch it when the other one comes flying out, hitting me in the chest. 

"Awesome!" she exclaims, finally getting to her feet. "Oh, sorry did they hit you?" she asks, pulling her dress down a little. I shake my head, a little out of breath from the hit to the chest. "Oh, good."

"Are you planning on wearing a necklace with that?" I call, coughing a little. I tie my shoe, finally ready to go to this weekend getaway. I want to get back as fast as I can. 

"No, Phil, but you can pick one out for me if you want," she yells, probably fixing up her makeup. 

"Kay," I say back, slightly quieter, and walk over to her jewelry stand. She has a wide assortment of necklaces that would work well with her current outfit, but I settle on a "choker" style made completely of diamonds, with a larger diamond dropping down the center. Perfect and elegant with a touch of sass, just like Zoe. 

When she finally gets out of the bathroom, smelling strongly of roses, I slip my phone into my pocket, straightening my blazer. "Ready?" I ask. She nods and turns around so I can clip her necklace around her throat. After I do so I press a kiss to the back of her neck. 

"Yeah, okay, okay okay, are we missing anything? Does my hair look okay?" her hands fly to her hair. 

"Uh, yes, your hair looks beautiful," I scoff. 

I did her hair for her. 

"Okay, I know," she groans, doing the clasps on the back of her pumps and approaching me. "Guess who's tall enough to kiss you now?" she winks, pressing her mouth against mine, so I only have to tilt my head downwards instead of full on crouching to reach her. This is why it's ideal to make out on a bed. 

"We have to go," I say against her lips. 

"Just one more minute," she says softly, reaching around to give my bum a squeeze. "Okay," she sighs. "Now we can go."

When we make our way downstairs, there's already a limousine waiting for us and we're greeted by our usual cabby, Rob. 

"Hello my lovely flower children," he says once we're in. "Are you ready for the best night of your lives?"

We throw our bags onto the seat across from us. 

"Well I don't know about that, Rob," Zoe responds, placing her hand on my knee. "But we're as ready as we're going to get for the party. Are you going to be coming in?"

He scoffs, putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb. "No, I wasn't invited."

"Rob, I'm basically the coordinator of the party, trust me, you're invited," Zoe giggles. 

"No, no, really, sweetheart, it's okay," he says, looking up into the rear view mirror to meet her gaze. Rob is almost seven feet tall, and has ginger hair and a Scottish accent, but is the sweetest man you'll ever meet. No one knows exactly how old he is, and when Zoe and I attempted to research him further we found that he had quite the prison record, so we stopped, feeling like we were invading his privacy just a little too much. 

"Alright, Rob, well if you want to, feel free to come in, alright?" she asks, smiling into the mirror. 

Since the hotel is barely a few blocks from our house, the ride is quick and smooth. By the time I get out of the car, Zoe has already made her way to the revolving door in the entrance of the hotel. I assume its nerves and rush to catch up with her. Her hand finds mine somehow, and she starts dragging me into the lobby. 

I feel sort of guilty for ditching Rob with our bags and the duty of checking us in until I remember that's what we're paying him for. "Babe, you're gonna dislocate my shoulder-" I gasp when she stops short, so my chest slams into her back. 

"Phil!" she gasps starting to fall forward. I reach forward and wrap my arms around her, pressing her back into my chest again. She sighs. 

"Slow down," I whisper into her ear, pressing my lips to her neck. She sighs again, then gasps, jerking away from me. 

"LOUISE!" she screams, running up to her blonde haired friend. 

"Oh my goodness, Zoe, it looks so good!" she gasps, smiling. Louise is wearing a 50s style cocktail dress that reaches just below her knees. It's tailored to fit her perfectly- you can still see the new seams- but it has a blue polka-dotted pattern. Over it she was a light grey cardigan, along with a pair of spikey gray pumps, making her look a little more edgy overall. She looked beautiful. 

They clutched onto each other, spinning around in a circle. "I'm so excited to see you!" Zoe gasps. 

I roll my eyes, sticking my hands into my pockets. They saw each other yesterday. 

When she takes a step back, I look up to see her butt cheek poking out of the bottom of her tight dress. I rush forward, hoping no one else sees so she doesn't get embarrassed. She feels me against her back, then reaches up to place her hand on the back of my neck. I pull it down, shimmying carefully so I don't break the new thread- not that it would break. I did a fantastic job. 

"So, Louise," I begin, "I heard that you have some sort of new boyfriend here with you?" I wiggle my eyebrows. 

Zoe was right, I am overprotective of these girls, because they're my best friends. I won't be mean to whomever her new boyfriend was until he fucks something up. 

She lets out a snort. "He's not my boyfriend! Oh god, no," she giggles, crossing her arms. 

"What? What is he then? Who is he?"

"He's just a friend, too gay to be anything else," she chortled. "His name is-"

"Dan Howell, nice to meet-" a tall boy carelessly wraps his arm around Louise's shoulders and flicks his hair out of his eyes, putting his hand up before meeting my eyes. "Phil!?" he gasps, eyes widening. 

My eyebrows furrow for a moment in disbelief. What is he doing here? "Dan!" I practically shout, a smile breaking out over my face involuntarily. I quickly rip away from Zoe while Dan does the same to Louise, practically jumping into my arms. I wrap mine around him with just as much enthusiasm and breathe in the scent of my familiar old friend. 

"What?" I hear Zoe say. 

Dan's arms wrap around my waist and he almost lifts me off the ground. He sets me down and beams, "Oh my god, Phil!" he laughs. "You haven't changed a bit!" 

I smile back, running my fingers through my fringe. "Well look at you, you look- you look- clean cut!" 

He spins in a circle, allowing me to take in his full black suit, down to the bow tie. "I've taken to wearing more colors," he laughs. 

"Yeah, I see that," I roll my eyes, resting a hand on his shoulder, and looking into his familiar, yet different eyes. 

"So, I have to ask," Zoe begins, Louise following close behind her. I drop my hand and look back to her, guilty that I'd forgotten she was here briefly. "Uh, how do you know each other?" she asks, a small, confused smile on her face. 

Dan's smile wavers when she places her hands on my arm, one of them interlocking fingers with my hand. He composes himself quickly though, putting his hand out for her to shake it. "We were best friends in high school," he swallows thickly, and I look away. 

"Aw, really," she smiles sweetly. "Well it's incredibly nice to meet you, Dan, was it?" 

"Yep, that's me," he says cheekily. 

***

For the rest of the party, Dan and I are practically attached at the hip, which doesn't run as a big problem for Zoe and Louise, seeing as they probably planned on being together the whole time anyways. 

"So, Daniel, what have you been doing these past... five years?" I ask. He looks down shyly. 

"Nothing really," he shrugs. "I took a gap year, went to university for a term, then stopped."

"What?" I furrow my eyebrows, approaching the giant punch bowl. I move on to the stronger drinks. "Why? Were you not enjoying it?"

"Not really no," he shrugs. "I just don't think it was for me."

"Oh? What did you end up doing then?" I offer him a rum and coke and he takes it without hesitation, surprising me. Dan was never one for drinking in high school. 

"I work for Netflix," he shrugs. "I watch the movies and make the descriptions. That sort of thing."

"Oh my god, Dan, that's so cool!" I exclaim, pouring myself a shot of brandy. He gives me a weird look, but takes another sip of his drink. "I work as a stupid, boring fashion designer."

"That's not stupid," he shakes his head. 

I shrug. "Well, it pays the bills I guess."

He looks at me weird again, but dismisses my comment. "So how did you and... sorry I don't remember her name, but what's happening there? Are you two together?"

I was hoping he wouldn't bring Zoe up. 

"Uh, yeah, Zoe" I nod, taking another shot. "We've been dating for seven months. We live together."

"Oh, wow," he says, clearing his throat and looking down into his cup. "That's pretty quick, don't you think?"

"Well, we lived together before we were dating," I shrug. "So it's not like we just you know decided our relationship was at that level yet. We were already.." I trail off, wondering why I find the need to constantly explain myself. 

"Oh, oh, I see," he nods. I wish this wasn't so awkward. 

"Dan, I don't want things to be weird between us, okay?" I finally break the silence.

I practically slaughter the silence, actually. 

"What do you mean? I didn't think things were weird? Do you think things are weird? I don't... I don't think so," he shrugs, drinking from his cup and looking up.

"Dan, come on," I put my hand on his shoulder and he glances at it before looking back at me. He's gotten taller since the last time I saw him. "I haven't seen you in years and I don't want everything that happens to be based on some silly fight we had half a decade ago."

His head tilts to the side slightly. "Some silly fight?" he asks, chuckling a little to lighten the air. "I didn't think it was silly..."

"Well... it wasn't at the time, but now it seems like it was nothing, you know?" I shrug, laughing awkwardly. 

He looks down into his drink before finishing it off and clearing his throat. "Do you think they'd make me a margarita?" he sighs, walking away from me to find a real bartender. 

"Wait- wha- Dan!" I shout, rushing after him. Surprisingly, his legs are now longer than mine, so his strides cover what looks like three feet per step. "Daniel!" I scold, scrambling to catch up with him once he reaches the bar across the lobby, tapping his fingers on the surface of it impatiently. 

"Damn, am I ever gonna get any service around here?" he groans, already irritated with his lack of a drink despite the fact that we only approached the rounded bar mere seconds ago. As if on cue, a young guy in a tux comes around the back of the bar, wiping his hands off with a white dish rag. Dan immediately straightens up upon seeing him; his skin is a rich caramel color and his eyes are a dark blue. His head his topped with a mop of dark curls pushed back from his forehead and his jawline is sharp enough to cut a man. He's gorgeous and I'm irritated. 

The man smiles, dropping the rag onto the bar and leaning his hands on it to come face to face with Daniel. "What can I get for you?" he asks, his voice low and melodic in an American accent.

Dan grins back and slides down into the stool across from him. "Not sure..." he says, voice completely even and low, surprising me. When has he ever been this composed in his life? "What would you recommend?"

I scoff and sit next to him, crossing my legs and deciding to watch the encounter play out. The man glances over at me and flashes me a genuine smile before turning back to my companion.

"Well, my personal favorite is a Sea Breeze," he shrugs. "Which is a fancy name for a cranberry vodka with grapefruit juice," another easy smile comes to his face and Dan returns it. "I'd highly recommend it if you like fruity drinks."

"Oh, I do," Dan responds, surprising me with his tone of voice. 

Is he... flirting?

"Sure, I'd love to try that," he says, running a hand through his fringe. 

"Awesome," the man starts reaching around for bottles, scooping ice into a glass and filling it in record time. "By the way," he says, shaking the concoction in a cocktail shaker and maintaining eye contact with him, not even sparing me a second glance. "I'm Chase," he says, looking down to pour Dan's drink into his cup and place it on the bar in front of him. 

"Dan," is all he says before taking a rather large gulp of the drink ungracefully. "Wow," he nods, setting the glass back down. "That is pretty good."

"See, I told you, right?" Chase laughs, looking around the bar, eyes passing right over me, to make sure that he doesn't have anymore customers to deal with. I'm surprised when I do the same and see that of all the people in the room, not another one is coming up to get a drink. 

I look down at my hands and my eyebrows furrow as I begin to think, ignoring the two talking to my left. I haven't seen Dan in years, and now, at a party being thrown for my girlfriend, he decides to show up again? Our friendship didn't exactly end on good terms, as common and cliche as that is for high school friends, but for some reason, all of that went away when we first made eye contact. Of course, though, I had to bring it up and make things uncomfortable, because that's what I do. Dan, though, just brushed it off and kept on going, now flirting up a storm with some random American bartender. I sigh, tracing some of the lines of marble on the bar with my finger tips. The last time I even spoke to Dan was on accident. I was drunk and trying to call my friend Diana when I accidentally called him and he was caring enough to pick me up and drive me home. Not that that situation ended well either. 

My thoughts are rudely interrupted by an all too familiar laugh emitting from Dan's throat. My head snaps up to find that Chase was who caused it. His hand is on Dan's forearm and there's a piece of paper resting under his fingers, which is obviously a phone number. My eyes roll and I look at the wide and vast assortment of alcohol behind Chase, unsure of what to ask for, although I'm hoping for something strong. 

When I glance back over, Chase's thumb is moving back and forth over Dan's arm, slowly moving up to his bicep. I clear my throat loudly, causing both of their head's to turn in my direction. One of Daniel's eyebrows lifts slightly and Chase bites his lip as they wait for an explanation for my interrupting their conversation. 

"Uh..." I begin. "We should probably... you know, get back... to Zoe and Louise," I shrug. "They're probably looking for us," I chew on my bottom lip and look up to find Dan watching me skeptically before sighing and nodding. 

"You're probably right," he concedes, looking back to Chase. "It was nice meeting you," he grins, "and I'll definitely be calling you."

I'm just about to roll my eyes intensely when Dan winks and I'm too taken aback to do a thing, even when he takes his nearly empty glass and necks it. I remain seated for a few moments, still slightly dazed and confused at the fact that Dan had actually winked at someone, and been seriously flirting with them. When we were friends, he could barely order a burger at a small cafe where we knew everyone, much less hit on some random bartender at a crowded party. 

He's almost halfway across the room when he glances back to see that I'm still sat frozen on the stool and he calls for me to follow him. "What are you doing, mate, let's go!" he snaps in his usual Dan fashion. 

Finally I rise out of the chair and make my way warily towards his spot in the room. When I approach him, he smiles at me, the small piece of paper still in his hand. 

Although I've only seen Dan actually black out drunk a handful of times, and buzzed barely more so, I can tell easily when he's had enough alcohol to affect him, and I can tell right now he's getting damn near close to being drunk. 

That must be why he was so smooth talking to Chase at the bar. 

"Hm, I think I want a Tootsie Roll cocktail," he muses, starting to venture towards the drinks table again, hitching his arm around the back of my neck to drag me along. 

"Hey, Dan," I raise my hand warily around his waist and try to lead him away from the drinks. "I honestly think you've had enough to drink."

"I don't think so," he laughs. "Not as much as I'd like to have drunk, I'll tell you that." Despite my effort to get us away from so much booze, he wins the fight and drops his arm from around me, setting his hands on the table to scan what drinks are available. "Tootsie, tootsie, tootsie..." he trails off. 

"What's a Tootsie Roll cocktail?" I finally ask, giving in to his chanting. 

"It's like a drink with root beer and... and Kahlua," he says, pulling out a bottle of root beer and a clear plastic cup from the top of the stack of them. "It was on How I Met Your Mother, obviously."

I nod my head, watching as he pours himself the drink. "Right," I say absentmindedly. We used to watch it together all the time, it was his favorite show. It probably still is. 

"Have you ever had one?" he asks, offering the cup to me. I nod my head, lying to get out of drinking it. I'd prefer to stay sober tonight- one of us at least should. 

"Alright, let's find Zoe and Louise," I clap, grabbing his elbow to lead him to them. 

"Aww, Louise, I love Louise," he sighs contently, taking another drink of his cocktail. "She's so great, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, she is," I say, standing on my tiptoes to try and spot at least one of them. After a few seconds of searching, I see her blonde head standing out among everyone else. "Found them," I say, starting to push through the crowded area, thankful that I'm at least a little buzzed so I don't panic around all the people.

"Phiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiil!" Zoe screeches happily when she sees me, immediately latching on to me. 

"Hey, sweetheart," I greet her, rubbing her back. I can practically smell the alcohol on her and I haven't even gotten a whiff of her breath. 

"She's plastered," Louise warns me, before glancing behind me and seeing Dan. 

"Yeah, well he's getting there," I say, nodding my head towards him. 

"I met a boy, Louise," he says, winking at her, much sloppier than he had at Chase. 

"Did you really? Where? Was he cute?" she asks, shimmying her shoulders against Dan. He smirks and looks over to me. 

"I don't know... I don't remember," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Was he cute, Phil?" he asks. 

He's trying to get a reaction out of me, but I just shrug and nod, "He was drop-dead gorgeous!" 

Louise breaks out into a fit of giggles and Zoe does as well against my chest, while Dan just stands there looking emotionless- which isn't exactly surprising for him. 

"Yeah, I think you're right... I'm gonna call him tomorrow, he said he wanted to come up to my room and hang out," he explains to her. 

Now my interest has peaked slightly. Is that what they were saying when I was completely spacing out? 

"Ooh, Dan's gonna get lucky! Dan's gonna get lucky!" she begins chanting, and soon Zoe pulls away from me, stray hairs falling around her face as she starts shouting it with Louise. 

"Shh, stop stop!" I start saying, covering Zoe's hand with mine. 

"Why, is our excitement bothering you?" Zoe says drunkenly, sounding muffled under my hand. I remove it and shake my head, opening my mouth to answer her when suddenly her lips are on mine. I take a moment to process, blinking once before closing my eyes and kissing her back. She moans against my mouth, sliding her fingers into my belt loops.

I place my hands over hers and gently push her off, not really in the mood to be full on making out with her in front of-

Such a large group of people. 

But when I look up, Dan's eyes are already locked with mine and he whispers something to Louise, who giggles before he walks off quickly, hopping up the stairs two at a time. 

Without even meaning to, I pull away from Zoe, a little roughly and chase after my old friend.


	2. chapter 2

I make it to the grand staircase placed in the center of the lobby before I stop myself, my hand resting on the curved railing. Every fiber of my being wants to race after Dan, to tell him I regret completely ditching him after I graduated, but I at least have a small sense of reality and know that it's too late to sew together our torn friendship. 

So with regret, I force my legs back and drop my arms to my side, making my way back to my girlfriend. Just as I'd suspected, she hadn't even been bothered by my absence, latching right back onto Louise and dancing, just as the song changes to a fast pace, dubstep remix. I sigh, trying to mentally prepare myself for throwing myself into the crowd of sweaty bodies. 

For a so- called professional party, the a vast majority of people are grinding on each other and making out in corners. It seems less a work affair, and more a fancy university throwback, especially considering the fact that many of the employees look incredibly young to already be so success. I lurk on the outskirts of the mass of people for minutes, observing their behaviours before I decide I can do without going back and dancing and chasing after Dan. I can find my own hotel room and lay down for a while. 

I ponder the option for a short moment and then practically sprint up the grand staircase, trying to make out the number of our room in the mess of thoughts swimming in my mind. I tap my hands on my trousers and chew the inside of my cheek whilst I walk down the corridors. The sound of the music has faded for the most part, now that I've taken several turns into the second floor. 

As much as I hate to admit it, I left the same direction Dan had, both hoping to "accidentally" run into him and to possibly find my room. I prefer the former, though. The hallways are brightly lit, probably not a good idea for all the people that will be hungover tomorrow, but a fabulous idea in my spiteful little mind. The walls are a bleak shade of green, and the trimming is an ugly brown color. How ironic that the very same hotel all the interior designers are crashing in looks like it was painted by a three-year-old with a taste for watercolor. 

A soft, rhythmic, popping noise snaps me from my pessimistic revere, and I freeze. The small pips are accompanied by a dull humming, and I walk quietly to where the noise leads me. Only a few doors down, in front of room 243 the sounds are at their loudest before they come to a complete halt and are replaced by an ear shattering beeping noise. 

Irritation builds in me, both at the fact that someone is making popcorn at 3am and the fact that it took me so long to figure out that the noise was someone microwaving it. I'm just about to take off in search of my forgotten suite, when I remember a random fact about Daniel. He loves popcorn. He always used to say that the thing that made him happiest in the world was the noise it made when it popped, because he knew then that he would get a taste of it's deliciousness. Of course after that he went on to say he was lying and the thing that made him happiest was me, but that's beside the point. 

I make my way back to his door and rap on it twice, praying that it's him and not some old woman. I rock back on my heels, listening to the soft padding of socks walking across the floor, and the scraping noise when the door is unlocked. It opens only a few seconds after, and I come face to face with none other than Chase, the American who was down at the bar. 

He clears his throat, leaning on the doorframe before calling over his shoulder, "Dan, your buddy from before is here."

In only a few moments I see Dan come out from behind the wall in front of his bed, his dress shirt unbuttoned so I can see his chest and stomach, and a bag of popcorn in his hand. He makes his way over, nodding to me and pulling on Chase, urging him to give us a moment. Before doing so, in what I figure is an attempt to make me uncomfortable, he grabs Dan by the back of the neck and brings their mouths together. I purse my lips, resorting back to the heel rocking technique I'd taken up before and scrunch my nose involuntarily. Eventually he carelessly pushes the other man off and points back to the bed so he can turn his full attention on me, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable, and just drunk overall. 

"Hey there, mate, what can I do you for?" he slurs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth, leaving a few pieces to fall to the ground when they don't fit. 

"Uh..." I trail off. I could have been using all this awkward time to come up with an excuse as to why in the world I was in search of Dan's suit. "I can't find my room," is what I finally decide to settle with. His eyebrows raise in that normal fashion he has. 

"And... how would you like me to help you with that, Phillip?" he says, shifting his weight and moving to get another handful of food. I put my hand on his arm, stopping him and he pauses, looking up to meet my eyes. 

"What are you doing with him?" is what comes out of my mouth, instead of the intended phrase 'did Louise tell you our room number?' and now it's my time to pause, my hand still locked on his arm. 

His eyebrows furrow and he tilts his head to the side. "What do you mean?" Behind his innocent, drunk boy facade, I can clearly see that he's being a cheeky little shit, trying to make me say I don't like him having random men in his room.

"I mean..." I cough and let my arm drop. "You just met the guy. He could be a sociopath!" I hush myself. "He is from America after all."

Dan rolls his eyes. "Phil, don't be stupid," he responds. "If he's a sociopath, then maybe I can be his John Watson! Huh? Right?" he winks. "Anyways I think I'll be off. My little Sherlock is waiting," he starts to turn around and I put my hand up to stop him from closing the door. 

"Dan I thought we could catch up," I spit out. "Maybe finally make up."

He peers at me over his shoulder. "Unless I misheard you and you said make out, then the answer is no," he shrugs and I shift my feet. "But I doubt you'd mean that, and, well, Chance does-"

"Chase," I correct. 

"-Chase does," he quickly fixes himself, acting as though he didn't even make the mistake. "And I'm going to have a drunken hookup... so your room is 244, right across the hall. Louise and Zoe worked it out that way. Have a nice night, Phil," he finally dismisses me fully, closing the door with my hand still on it. 

I stand there, in awe of the way the conversation had played out. In awe of the way Dan had gladly made out with a man he's known hardly an hour. In awe of the way he blew me off and left me standing there uncomfortably so he could have a one night stand. I scoff and finally turn around, fishing the key out of my wallet and insert it into the slot, impatiently shifting from foot to foot for the censor to recognize the card and unlock. 

Finally the light turns green and I'm met with a beep. Just as I'm about to open the door and step in, I hear a moan coming from Dan's room. My eyebrows furrow and I make my way in, slamming the door behind me. I know it's childlike, but I don't appreciate hearing my childhood best friend having sex with a random guy. I don't like the thought of him having sex with anyone at all. 

I make sure the door is locked behind me, but leave the chain danging from where it's attached on the wall so Zoe can stumble in drunkenly at some point this morning. I sigh, seeing all of our bags on the bed. Without a second thought, I shuffle over and push them off the duvet, kicking my shoes off so I can go to bed in my suit. I last about 3 minutes before my fashion education forces me to take off the suit and hang it up, then change into my average plaid pajama pants. 

I slip under the beige comforter and snuggle into the down pillow, finally settling into a pleasing position. I sigh, relaxing my muscles into the mattress and letting it warm me. 

"Dan!" comes a sharp gasp from across the hall. 

My eyes shoot open with realization and I rip the other pillow from the opposite side of the bed and cover my ears with it, sandwiching my head between them. I refuse to listen to the progression of their night while I try to maintain my innocence and get a good night's rest. 

"Yes! Mmm yes, Dan," he shouts again. 

How is no one getting up and complaining about this?

Of course, of course everyone is still downstairs partying and making bad choices and we're the only three who aren't on ground level. I groan in annoyance and bury myself further into the sheets and pillows, desperately trying to muffle the sounds. 

I still hear brief gasps and shouts, but they only come through as noises while I squeeze my eyes shut and press down hard on the pillows to spare myself.

***

When I open my eyes, the sun is burning through the curtains and my mouth is disgustingly dry. The pillows I had previously had smashed to each side of my brain are both scattered at the foot of the bed. I sit up, about 80% of my bones popping at the movements, and stretch my arms above my head. 

I have a stabbing migraine, and the bright morning sunlight is wiping out almost half my vision. I moan through the stretching and stand, turning to see if Zoe is still passed out. 

To my complete and utter surprise, she's nowhere to be seen. Either she woke up ungodly early and went down to the breakfast buffet or never got to the room last night. Whichever is true, I'm not worried about it in the slightest as I make my way to the bathroom to brush the rancid taste out of my mouth and maybe take some Excedrin. I almost pass out with the brush in my mouth twice, and finally spit the excess foam in the sink. 

I don't spend a lot of time on my outfit for the day, just throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans, a button up blue shirt with gold buttons and a pair of black dress shoes for the plethora of meetings I'm supposed to accompany Zoe on. I make my way out the door and knock on the one across the hall, hoping Louise is in there or Chase is gone. 

It swings open quickly and I see a flash of Dan running around the room, followed by a very muffled, "Hey, Phil, what can I do ya for?" and I step in, closing the door behind me. 

From what I can see, he's the only person in the room at all, and he's hurrying to brush his teeth and straighten his hair at the same time- a dangerous combination for someone as uncoordinated as he. "Uh, nothing, I just though maybe Louise would be in here because I haven't seen Zoe since last night," I shrug, stuffing my hands in my pockets. 

"Oh, well Louise left early to go out to breakfast with some reporter, she said Zoe went up to her room before her, and she came back around like 5am," he explains, spitting into the sink and letting the faucet drain it down. He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. "What time is it, anyway?" he asks. 

I pull my phone out and absentmindedly glance at the clock, reporting back, "9:45." I watch him intently and tilt my head to the side when he meets my gaze in the mirror. 

"Did you not hear Zoe come in last night?" he asks, brushing it down with his fingers. 

"No, I didn't," I admit, then quietly add, "but I sure heard you comin' last night."

"What was that?" he asks, unplugging the flat iron from the outlet. 

"Huh? Oh, nothing..." I reply. "Anyways... how was your night?"

"Um, it was alright, I think," he shrugs, wrapping the cord around it. "I don't remember too much, I was pretty hammered, but I got laid, which is always a plus," he chuckles, stuffing the utensil in his bag and rolling the sleeves of his black shirt up to his elbows. 

"Right, right... always a plus," I repeat, cracking each of my knuckles individually to take my mind off of the tense air. 

"Any big plans for the day?" he asks, slipping into his black Converse. 

"Uh, no just some boring meetings with Zoe if I ever manage to find her," I laugh, then clear my throat. "How about you? Hanging out with Chase again, or?" I manage to slip the question in in a sly manner- I hope- and his head shoots up and he knits his brow. 

"Who?"

I chuckle uncomfortably. "Chase? That American guy you spent the night with?"

"Oh, was that his name?" he asks, tying the laces and standing up. "Well, no, he was out of here the second he woke up, which is convenient because I wouldn't have known how to tell him I'm not too interested in you know 'serious relationships'," he says, looking at me through playfully narrowed eyes. 

I swallow thickly and look away, knowing he's quoting an annoying teenage me from high school. "Right, well, good thing, then," I nod and start to leave. "Well you enjoy your day, maybe tonight we can catch up," I nod, then slip out the door, closing it behind me. 

Before I've even had a chance to take a step, the door opens again and he's standing beside me. "I'll walk with you," he shrugs, closing it behind him. 

"Oh... alright," I accept it, letting him stroll by my side down the hallway, now seeming to be lit more dimly than last night. 

We stay silent for most of the hallway, then Dan speaks up with a heavy question, "Is your relationship with Zoe serious?" just as a random door on our left opens and someone stumbles out of wearing only a sheet. 

Dan and I freeze and the girl giggles, followed by a masculine guy wearing only boxers, trying to take the sheet off of her. When the lay eyes on us the pause, and Dan's hand hold my bicep with a sickening grip. The girl's grow wide at being caught, and the man just looks annoyed with the fact that we interrupted them. My jaw is slack and when I attempt to step forward, Dan proves to be a true friend because he pulls me back to his side and keeps me there. 

"Zoe?" I manage to ask, my eyebrows tightly furrowed together. She swallows and looks between the two of us. "Zoe," I repeat, this time disappointment and disdain coating my voice. 

"Phil," she says back, taking a tentative step forward to approach me. "Phil, wait," she begs when I shake my head and step around her, Dan still latched onto my side. "Please, Phil," she says again, taking a fistful of the back of my shirt. 

I turn around, not angry, not raging, just completely disappointed. "What, Zoe? What could you possibly say right now?"

"I... I don't know," she says, swallowing and blinking furiously. "I was- I was drunk, Phil-"

"Oh, right," I nod, a sarcastic grin on my face. "Of course I understand, sweetie, it was just a drunken mistake. No harm no foul."

"Really?" she asks hopefully. 

I bark out a laugh and turn back around, this time walking faster and dragging Daniel behind me down the staircase and out the entrance. 

I shake my head, this time the hot anger filling my chest. The only small thing keeping me grounded right now is my friend's death grip on my arm. He lets me storm through the people on the pavement, and even shoves a few pedestrians out of my way. I don't know where I'm headed or what I'm doing, but I just keep walking until I reach a the edge of a flea market. There are people bustling around, and keeping inventory and laughing and I finally halt to watch the interactions play out before me. 

I remain silent, and finally he unwraps his fingers from my arm, dropping his hand to his side. He takes a few paces away from me, settling at the edge of a cement cutout in the sidewalk overlooking the shore where the market takes place. 

I can't find the right words to describe how I'm feeling. I'm surprised, definitely, and obviously I'm angry, but there's something else mixed between the two emotions that I can't quite identify. Almost a type of bittersweet vindication knowing that my apprehension to engage in a committed relationship was justified. My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I reach around to silence it, knowing already that it's Zoe. I refuse to even speak with her at this point. 

I never understood how you could cheat on someone. I don't care if it's because you were drunk or stoned or just don't love your partner anymore, cheating is never legitimized by any excuse you can come up with. There's never a good reason for cheating, and there's never a good reason for going back to someone who cheats on you. There's no sense of trust anymore, no more exclusive love for only each other. 

That's not something I want. That's not something Zoe should want. 

I sigh, approaching Dan from behind and lean on the metal rail beside him. 

"How are you feeling, mate?" he asks glancing over at me with a hard look on his face. 

I shrug, letting out a little chuckle. "I don't know," I admit. "I guess you're not the only one who got laid last night."

His eyebrows furrow and he reaches out to grab my shoulder. "Phil, you know you don't have to do that around me. I don't care if we fought, I want you to know you can act how you feel, you don't have to cover it with sarcasm."

I shake my head and look into his eyes, trying to figure out why he has such a strong sense of apathy. "I'm not feeling sad, though, Dan," I tell him honestly. "Sure, I'm pissed off, but that's a given. I guess I'm not exactly surprised, you know? I mean... I mean I am surprised that Zoe would do something like this to me, but I'm not surprised that something like this happened in a relationship."

His face softens slightly and he rubs my back comfortingly. "Phil, you know you can't live like that, right? You can't live with a permanent fork in your relationship road. Just because someone can hurt you doesn't mean they will. You need to really work on your sense of commitment."

I laugh sarcastically. "Really, Dan? You're going to say that to me? I've been in a committed relationship for seven months and I just got cheated on! And, anyways, how can you, of all people, lecture me about commitment when you sleep around every weekend?" 

He scoffs, removing his hand from my back. "I do not sleep around every weekend! And even if I did, what's the matter with that? Am I effecting you in any way? The answer is no! And it's different with me, I'm not scared of commitment, I'm just not overly fond of it, and I haven't met the right person yet. Wait- why are you turning this around on me? This is your problem, currently, Phillip!"

I roll my eyes and look back out over the coast. The wind is biting cold and I'm only wearing a dress shirt. Dan's sleeves are rolled up and he's barely reacting at all, so I just cross my arms and pretend I'm not freezing.


	3. chapter 3

The ground glistens with newly fallen rain, and the familiar tangy scent of spring invades my senses. The walk to Dan's apartment from my hotel isn't very far, so I opted out of taking a cab or calling Rob for a simple five block walk. I don't know why I'm going.

That's a lie. I'm going to his flat to see how fitting it would be for me to move in with him. On the surface of my intelligence, it seems to be a fantastic idea for the two of us to live together, for the dynamic duo to be back together again. But if you dig deep into my mind, there's a deeply rooted doubt that it would go well. Really, though, where else do I have to go? So I walk, albeit reluctantly down the pavement, passing strip malls and cafes on every street.

The area itself seems nice enough, and there are more than enough shops to sustain myself without needing to travel very far. It's a little farther away from my work than my last flat, but that's no problem. The coffee shops seem both aesthetically and logically pleasing; they seem both an inspirational environment and a quiet haven I can work on designs in.

What am I doing? There's no reason for me to move in with Dan. I have more than enough funds to happily and comfortably maintain myself and a decently sized apartment all by myself. So what's the point of this little visit? I pause in the middle of the sidewalk, suddenly standing idly in front of one of said cafes and trying to come up with an explanation that doesn't include the phrase "make up" or "how we were". In truth it seems the only reason I want to move back in with Daniel is because I miss him. I miss my best friend. It's been me and Zoe for so long that I've nearly forgotten what he's like, his little quirks, his laugh, his sense of humor. In truth I just want to be near to him. I crave his presence. I miss his sarcasm and his mischievous side glances during tense situations, I miss his inappropriately timed jokes and his strong opinions and his sense of care for others. I keep walking, checking my phone to make sure I'm going the right way.

Maybe logic isn't the answer here. Maybe taking a break from cutting myself off from humanity is a good idea. Maybe nostalgia and the thought of reminiscing with an old friend are answer enough for me. And maybe moving in and laughing at memories aren't the only intentions I have with Dan. Maybe I have some others; some that I don't quite know of myself yet. Maybe he'll be able to pull me through the mud that seems to be slowing me down and pushing me back two steps for every one I take forward.

His building comes into my line of sight and I text him, letting him know I'm outside. When I get to the tall dark glass doors, I scan the list of names next to the buzzers, curious to see if I find any familiar college buddies. I see no one I know, and just as I make this realization, the door opens to reveal Dan's familiar wide smile.

"Hey, Phil," he greets, holding the door open for me. I walk through it cautiously, taking in every miniscule detail of the lobby. The walls are a dusty brick red color, and there are paintings scattered along the walls, a cork board with announcements for the tenants to my right, cluttered with fliers and papers. There's a grand staircase to the left, carpeted with gold and red designs and pitch black winding railings on either side. Straight in front of me is a large desk in front of a man with a name tag reading Michael.

"Thoughts?" He asks with a laugh, his hand resting on my back comfortingly. I just nod in approval and look at him. "Wanna go up and see the flat?" He suggests. I nod again and he leads me to the back of the lobby, taking a right turn behind the man at the desk, waving a little with his free hand. We walk up a back staircase to the third floor. "This building used to be a mansion for some wealthy guy in the 1800s, so this is the servant's staircase."

"Ooh," I respond. "Does that mean this place is haunted?"

He just smirks and let's his hand drop from my back, leaving me a little colder. He stops in front of room number 68 and fishes for his key in his jean pocket. "I know, I almost got 69," he sighs. "If only." Once he finds it he unlocks the room and steps in ahead of me. "I'll give you the full tour," he promises, standing in the doorway for a moment before putting his arm out for me to step in. I do, still feeling slightly hesitant, worried that the flat will be a disaster and I'll still move in just for Dan.

Upon entering the kitchen I can tell already that's not the case. It's a little smaller than my last one, but Zoe and I only ever cooked every once in awhile, so it's no problem. I pay attention to all the details, finding no cracks in the ceiling or the sink or the tile flooring.

"What do you think?" He asks warily, a shy smile on his face. He closes the door behind me. "I know it's a little small, but that's only because it's just me. I'm sure even with two people it won't be too small."

"I've worked with less," I smirk, remembering when I first moved into my dorms at university. My entire room was the size of the kitchen.

He chuckles nervously, "Right. Well, I'll show you the living room." We walk through a white hallway with picture frames donning the walls of him and people I've never seen before. An unfamiliar feeling invades me, one I can only identify as a sort of guilty jealousy. Jealous that all these people have gotten to know Dan; an entirely different Dan than the one from five years ago. Guilt because it's my fault I wasn't there with him through all these friendships and celebrations and relationships he'd been having. "Here we are," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "It's a bit immature, maybe, compared to your house now, but it's cozy and fun and I-"

"Dan, stop babbling," I laugh, giving his back a lingering pat. I drop my hand and admit, "I really like it. It's your personality. Zoe never let me have anything fun like this in our apartment, saying it didn't match the decor. Interior designer stuff, you know."

He quiets a little at the mention of Zoe, but shakes it off quickly. "Well yeah, there's all this, then I have a Wii and a PlayStation in the entertainment center. Along with every movie you could dream of," he pauses, his head tilted to the side before adding, "every good movie at least."

I smile, "I expect nothing less."

He grins back, then jumps up and says, "Oh! I'll show you the bedrooms." We go back down the hallway to the two rooms at the end, opening the door on the right to reveal a darkly colored room with brightly colored posters and knick knacks all over. "This is my room."

A wide smile makes its way to my face involuntarily seeing such an accurate representation of the inside of Dan's head. The "dark", soullessness he claims to have it represented by his walls and bedspread, and the rest of the humor and quirks and interests are blown up like a rainbow all over his room.

"Awesome," is the first word that comes out of my mind when I realize that I've been quiet an awkward amount of time.

"Alright, I'll show you the other room, then the bathroom and then we can talk if you want," he offers. I simply nod in agreement and he scoots around me, opening the door to the other room. It's emptier, naturally since no one is living in it. There's a wicker bed frame in the center, surrounded by a dresser and some other furniture, but blank space for the most part. "Obviously if you move in you can add some furniture and paint if you want. Whatever you want. Do you like it?" He asks.

I look over to him again, finding his brown eyes eager to receive my opinion. "I love it."

His grin grows wider. "Good! Good, good," he laughs. "Okay, well, the bathroom is really small, but who needs a big bathroom anyways?"

"Right," I reply. He wasn't lying, the bathroom is quite small, but really you don't need a big bathroom anyways. After giving an explanation about the history of the building, he returns to the living room, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for me to sit beside him.

"So...." he says.

"So," I reply, amused by his hesitance.

"So what are you thinking?" He asks. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, I... I really do like it," I answer honestly. All of my prior worries about the flat being too small are washed away. Sure, it's a little tight, but that makes it cozy. Maybe I could afford better, but it's a quality apartment. None of that, however, tops the fact that it's Dan. I'd be living in the same vicinity as Dan. I'd see him every day, and I wouldn't have to go through another five years of absolute boredom.

The longer I'm around Dan the more and more I recognize the changes in me since I left for university. I'm boring. I'm old. I've been acting as though being an adult is something that has to change you completely as a person. Zoe changed me completely as a person. Sure, I'm still me, but I'm a dull version of me. Around her I can't make jokes or references for fear that she'd see me as juvenile or that others would judge me. But around Dan, none of that bothers me. Around Dan I could do anything and not feel the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment. He brings out the best, most confident side of me.

"So are you saying you want to move in?" He asks hopefully, interrupting my thoughts.

I'm unsure of how I want to answer in that intelligent, itching side of my brain, but the emotional, irrational part of me practically jumps on Dan's offer and says, "Yes!" Without any of my consent.

"Really?" He smiles widely and that's enough for me to be completely in favor of moving in with him. Just that familiar bright smile lighting up his entire face is enough to make me do anything to keep it there.

"Really," I reply. "If you'll still have me."

"If I'll still have you!? Phil, are you kidding me? You're all I-" he stops himself short, obviously unsure of whether he wants to finish his exclamation. His eyes remain bright and curious as his smile fades slightly.

I tilt my head to one side. "I'm all you what?" I press. I know I'm treading in dangerous waters, but I want to hear what he has to say. I need to hear what he has to say. Whether it's something I'd never expect to hear, or something I've been yearning for him to say throughout our whole reunion, I need to hear it.

A part of me is, of course, terrified of either confession he makes. On one hand if he says something about our friendship and how he's glad to rebuild it, I know for a fact disappointment will flood within me, but if he says something more intimate, more relaxed and slow, I'll be both relieved and terrified. What will we end up doing? We couldn't move in together after a confession like that.

Of course that's not what he'll say. Dan won't reveal his desperate need for me or his glowing intentions and warm embrace. I know he won't. Because even if he feels that way, it's nothing remotely close to what Dan would do. And just because five years ago, he may have felt that way, that doesn't mean he has even a speck of that raw emotion left in him. Up until the morning so many weeks ago when I'd seen him again, I thought it had all been washed from me as well. And yet, here we are, and my feelings for him are poking at the surface, barely being smothered down enough to keep from bursting.

"Phil..." he says with a sigh, looking down to his lap. "Before we move in together, I think we need to have a little talk."

"Oh?" Is the first thing out of my mouth. That's definitely not what I was expecting to hear. "Well, um... about what?"

"About us," he says, not holding back at all. Warmth blooms in my chest, the usual energy and heat from the beginning of a relationship resurfacing. "Just to be sure we don't have any sort of unresolved feelings for one another before we live together."

The feeling remains, it's not like it will douse immediately after hearing such a gut-wrenching sentence. But along with it now, I feel as though I've been drenched in a bucket of water, so hot or so cold you can't tell which.

"I- uh- I um, don't... I-"

"I know it's a difficult thing to talk about, but... I think it needs to be done," he shrugs. "I know for a fact I have some things I want to talk to you about just to make sure there's no tense air between us."

No tense air between us? Is he even in the same room as me right now?

"O-okay," I nod. "Well, uh, well go ahead."

"Alright, I..." he clears his throat and looks up at me. "Phil, when you left me at your graduation, I was... I was devastated. I loved you," already I gulp in anticipation. "I loved you so much and you just... you ripped yourself away from me."

"Dan, you know I-"

"Yeah, I know, I know that you had to," he says, running a hand through his hair. "But you don't know the pain of finally having all your feelings reciprocated for, what, a week? And then having them torn apart when that person leaves you and doesn't even call you once in five years."

"Dan-"

"No, just... just let me finish," he asks, putting a hand up. I silence myself. "I understand why you left. I know you needed a fresh start, and I know that you didn't want to leave me, but that doesn't change the fact that you did. And it doesn't change the fact that for years, I kept loving you and you just... forgot about me. You completely cut me off, without so much as a phone call or a text message. I get if you didn't want a relationship going into university, especially when high school was such a mess for you, but that doesn't mean you had to cut off every tie you had to me."

I remain silent, waiting for him to finish, because he's not done yet, I can see it in his face. But I pray that what he says is that he still loves me, that he's forgiven me for leaving him and wants to give us another chance.

I don't know how all of this resurfaced in just a few short weeks around him when I've had it tucked away for half a decade, but that's how feelings are. They're uncontrollable, they're bleak and sharp and painful, and I don't know what I'll do if they aren't reciprocated.

I know Dan had to deal with the exact same situation, but at least he didn't have to live with me daily and watch me, knowing I'll never love him back.

Is that what I'm feeling? Is this love? Is this the old, familiar Dan-scented passionate emotion that's so memorable and sweet to me?

"For the past five years, Phil, I've wondered what I did wrong. I've wondered how I could have been better, how I could have been enough for you. I've wondered why I couldn't make you stay," he says, practically breaking my heart. I shift so I'm sitting on my hands, worried that if I don't occupy them, I'll take his face in my hands and kiss him like I've been longing to do since I first laid eyes on him at the gala. "Then I saw you with Zoe and I realized... I wasn't mature enough. I wasn't an adult. I'm younger than you. I didn't want to pursue a noble career, I didn't want to get married or have a family. I tried going to law school and look how that worked out for me. I'm just not what you wanted. Not what you want now. And that's okay, because finally.... Finally after seeing you with her, I've come to terms with the fact that we weren't right for each other. Not in that way, after all. We're too different. We-"

Sitting on my hands did nothing to help because here I am, one hand gripping the back of Dan's head and the other cupping his cheek with my mouth pressed against his. I feel his moment of hesitance, as if he believed the only reason I'm doing this is because of his little speech, but no that only spurred me on. I shift, getting into a position where I can tilt my head to the right and down a bit so I have better access to Dan's lips and then he responds hungrily.

His hands find their way to my waist with little to no effort and his mouth slides open, easily accepting and responding to my kiss. Heat is erupting through my chest and my mind blurs. Little noises escape both of our throats and I can do nothing but keep kissing him. The sensation of his lips melded into mine is enough to drive me wild, and there's nothing I would rather be doing than be pulled onto his lap as his hands greedily feel my chest and back.

I pull away briefly, breathing a little heavily and look him in the eyes. "Nothing," I say to him, brushing his hair back from his eyes.

He kisses me once, quickly and then murmurs, "What?"

"You did nothing wrong, Dan," I reply breathlessly. "You're perfect in every way. And you're right, you're not good enough for me, you're too good, Dan. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this. I didn't and still don't deserve your feelings for me-"

"Oh shut up, you spork," he shakes his head, yanking me back to his mouth. His tongue pushes past my lips and I gasp, reveling in-

***

My eyes dart open and I gasp as I sit up in bed.

I'm in my room, the room at Dan's flat.

That's the fourth dream I've had his week.

I moved in with Dan on Monday.

Every night I've been waking up from the dreams, and every night I've had to remind myself of our situation.

Dan didn't confess his sadness and distrust and disappointment to me.

I didn't kiss Dan.

Dan didn't kiss me back.

Every night the dream was an exact replica of the day he showed me around his flat up until the point where he asks if I want to move in. Then every night, a new plot is played out for me. They're all realistic and they all end incredibly and yet every night I wake drenched in guilt and sweat.

He hasn't shown the slightest bit of discomfort or even remote interest in our past, and I haven't brought it up.

We're just friends again, two friends living together who used to be in love.

My own feelings are attacking me, my guilt and emotions coming around to stab me in the back for never confessing them to Dan.

I have yet to pluck up the courage to say a word of it to him, but I want to. I want to so badly.

And living with him has just made it worse and worse.


	4. chapter 4

I drag my heavy and disappointed body out of bed and maneuver my way through the still unfamiliar house and into the kitchen. Much to my surprise the lights are already on and the coffee pot is brewing. 

That's the problem with Dan; not only is he up all hours of the night, but he's considerate during those hours. Dan despises coffee and still he decided to put a pot on for me. I sigh and rub my eyes wearily as I make my way over to the sink. I don't question myself on what I plan to do as a result of these little dreams I've been having. I've been trying to assure myself that they're temporary and completely normal, nothing to be concerned about. However, they aren't exactly wet dreams. They aren't wet dreams at all, they don't have anything to do with the physical aspects of a relationship with Dan, past or present. It's about him reciprocating my feelings. 

"Morning, sunshine," he calls from the living room when he hears the tap turn on. I grunt back a response, taking a few large gulps of the water in my mug. "How'd you sleep?" he asks, looking over at me where I now hover in the doorway to the living room. 

I shrug, shuffling over to flop down onto the couch at his side. He gladly shifts over, making extra room for me. He takes a sip of his tea and turns his attention back to the television, where a random anime is playing quietly. 

Just as I have after every dream I have like that, I go over our past together and all the decisions I'd made. 

When I was in year eleven, Dan had been new to the district and was in year ten. I walked into my first hour biology course with plans to stay into myself most of the time. I wasn't a particularly outgoing student, so I thought I would just pass the class, maybe pick up some extra credit points and be on my way. However, I hadn't guessed that the new, silent student that happened to be my lab partner would throw this idea I had out the window. 

When he came to sit down next to me, I dug my face out of the book it'd been buried it and dragged my line of sight to his face. His hair was probably just as long as mine, if not a little longer, and his dark brown eyes were aimed downwards in an attempt to avoid eye contact with me. Already I could tell my plan was ruined as this scrawny boy flicked his hair to the side and draped his cardigan over the back of his chair. 

"Hi, I'm Phil," I said, sticking my hand out for him to shake it.

And that's when it all changed. 

Not only did I grow to be more outgoing and optimistic because of this small, singular gesture, but I grew and developed one of the most important relationships of my high school career. Dan and I did everything together, we were attached at the hip; and when we weren't together, we would talk about each other. We were inseparable. 

The teachers knew it, the students knew it, hell even the lunch ladies knew it. From then on it was always Dan and Phil, never Dan or Phil. We were the dynamic duo, the ultimate friendship goals to any other pairs in the school. We went to dances together, we did projects together, we shared practically everything and everyone knew it. 

Of course rumors grew of us being a couple, and we didn't care that they weren't true. We went to a pretty accepting school, so even if it had been a true statement, no one had much of an opinion on it. 

This of course was a touchy subject however. I knew that what I felt towards Dan wasn't friendship and nothing more. I knew that I liked him in his tenth year, but what I didn't know was what that would grow into. By my final year of high school I had accepted the fact that I was hopelessly in love with Daniel and I had no way to get out of the whole I'd dug for myself. 

I of course had inklings that he felt something for me, too, but I wasn't confident enough to make a move on him. He, thankfully, however did. After my graduation party, Dan was meant to spend the night, which was nothing new. Our houses weren't "Dan's house" or "Phil's house", they were just "our houses". 

But that night, as we'd been watching Friends for the millionth time, and were on season 7 when we decided to call it quits and head to bed. Dan was acting different, and was being uncharacteristically quiet whilst watching his favorite show. 

"Are you okay, Dan?" I asked, knowing he was probably upset that I might be leaving for university. I hadn't decided whether I was going or not, and Dan had a crazy big impact on my decision. 

"Yeah... yeah, I'm good," he said quietly, avoiding eye contact with me. "Let's go to bed."

I nodded, figuring he would tell me the truth once we got to my room. So I switched the TV off and threw the empty bag of popcorn into the bin. When I reached my room, Dan was standing awkwardly in the middle of it, fidgeting with his hands. 

"Dan, really, what's the mat-" I didn't have the ability to finish my sentence, because somehow there was a hand on the back of my neck and a pair of lips on my own. I was washed with surprise and relief and love and a million other things at once. 

The kiss couldn't have lasted more than two seconds when Dan pulled away, before I'd even had a chance to react. He let his hand dropped and looked into my eyes now. "I'm sorry. I had to do that at least before you left," he shrugged. "Phil, I-"

It was my turn to interrupt him with a kiss this time, and I took his face in my hands and his lips with my own. He responded immediately, lips pressed hard against my own and wasting no time to deepen it with his tongue. I quickly guided us backwards, his hands pulling at my hips, bringing them closer to his. I fell back onto the bed, giving him only a moment to climb on top of me before I pulled him roughly down to meet my mouth again. There was such a heat running through me that I couldn't stop myself from pulling his shirt off of him and already working at the buckle on his belt. He moaned into my mouth when pulled it out of its loops with one swift movement. 

He practically tore my shirt off of me and then moved back down to start kissing my neck heatedly. I was panting at this point, and my hands were in his hair, tugging roughly when he bit down on my neck with a groan. I could already tell I'd have marks on my neck by the way he was so determined as he kissed and bit and sucked at it. 

"Dan," I said, pulling his head up so I could meet his eyes. "Dan," I repeated, licking my lips. "Dan, I love you." An adorable, beautiful smile invaded his face at this and he attacked my mouth with his own. 

The rest of the night continued in this manner, and we stopped at nothing, not even caring that the springs on my bed were old and loud and creaky and my parents were just upstairs. It was the best night of both of our lives, and everything was perfect and right. 

That's when I knew I had to leave for university. 

I couldn't stay in my small home town for the rest of my life. I couldn't stay just because of Dan. I didn't want to leave Dan, but I wasn't going to stay just for him, just because now we'd had sex and admitted our feelings for one another. 

I broke the news to him over breakfast the next morning and he'd looked more devastated than I'd ever seen him. That was the last I'd seen of him until the gala event only a few short weeks ago. I don't understand how he's just let it go like that. He hasn't brought it up once. Sure, I haven't either, but it's different. If I apologized for leaving him so long ago, he'd know my unresolved feelings had surfaced. Of course I didn't know if his had as well, but I assumed they hadn't considering how many other guys he's had over since I'd moved over. 

Okay, it's only been one, but that makes two since the interior design party. Two random guys in only a month? Come on, Dan. 

I'm being petty, and I know it. There's no reason for me to feel this way, but I can't help it. Dan had warned me that he was inviting a guy over that night, and I'd accepted his warning gracefully, bowing out of the house and heading down to one of the coffee shops just down the road. 

I found that those shops did exactly what I'd been expecting them to and more. They were an incredible inspiration and a good place to clear my head. Within my first week of living in the neighborhood, I became a regular at Luna's, and knew practically the entire staff and most of their schedules, since the cafe is 24 hour. Usually, I go between 4-7pm, and Cat is working at the cash register. She's memorized my usual order by now, and always makes pleasant conversation with me while she makes my vanilla latte. She's sweet and funny, and never fails to entertain me in the short 60 second span of what would usually be an awkward silence while a barista makes your coffee. Other times, when I come in the random hours of the night, PJ is working. PJ is my favorite staff member because he works from 10pm-5am, the midnight shift. I find myself going to the cafe in the middle of the night most times because it's dead and because PJ is there. He always sits and talks through my ideas with me. Others seldom come in unless they're third shift workers who need their "morning" coffee fix, but we both know all of them by name as well. I consider going there in the mornings, too, but I know Dan always has a hot pot of coffee brewing for me with cream and sugar next to it to jolt me awake by the time I drag myself out of bed. 

I turn my attention back to Dan, whose eyes watch me curiously. I furrow my eyebrows in a silent question as to why he's staring at me. "You sort of spaced out there for a minute," he chuckles, lifting his tea to his lips. I look away. "Is everything alright?"

"What?" I ask, laughing to conceal the fact that I was practically reliving the time we hooked up. "Yeah, of course I'm alright."

"Okay," he says skeptically, turning his head to watch the anime again. I stand, realizing I never poured myself a mug of coffee, and make my way back into the kitchen. 

With a sigh, I pull out a mug plastered with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles all over it and dump a decent amount of coffee, followed by cream and sugar. Dan has already laid out a spoon next to the coffee maker for me to stir it with and I silently curse him for being so considerate that I fall for him harder and harder every day. 

When I return to the couch, the episode has ended and Dan's turned the TV off and laid his computer on his lap. 

"You've assumed the browsing position, I see?" I laugh, receiving a glare from Dan. 

"How do you know I'm not working? I do work on the computer, you know," he sticks his tongue out, running a hand through his wavy hair. 

"Because Twitter isn't the platform you work on, that's why," I say, sticking my tongue out, too. 

"What time is that interview at Ralph Lauren today?" he asks with a chuckle. 

I sigh, taking a large gulp of coffee. "Ten," I reply, leaning forward to sneak a peak at the clock on his computer. 8:48am.

"Are you excited?"

I shrug, rubbing at my tired eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty nervous, though, too."

"Oh, come on, you'll get it. I know you will. I always knew you and Rachel Greene connected on a spiritual level," he says, putting a hand over his heart. I shove at his shoulder and he laughs. 

"Shut up, Dan."

"Well, you should probably get ready to go then," he comments, looking at me curiously. I shrug again. "Phil," he says a little more harsh this time. "What's the matter?"

"What? Nothing. I'm gonna go get ready," I say now, placing my nearly empty coffee mug down on the table adjacent to the couch. I turn and rush to my room, which I've already decorated with all of the things I've had packed away in boxes since moving in with Zoe. It was a cluster of random comic book and TV show posters, knick knacks and characters everywhere. The room was colorful and bright and represented my personality more than anything else ever would. 

I rummage through the drawers of my wicker dresser and pull out a pair of black skinny jeans, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. It's no secret that for me to look even semi-professional, I just have to wear black pants and a dress shirt, so I dig through my closet in search of a shirt that screams Ralph Lauren material. Finally, somewhere deep in the depths of the shirts, I find a gray patterned button up I'd bought from Ralph Lauren at uni. I throw it on, relieved to find that it still fits and pull on the rest of my clothes carelessly, my mind still occupied by Dan. 

I realize that I have to let him go, and let the idea of us go as well. I've been trying, too, it's not like I'm just sitting here hung up on him day in and day out. I do other things; I try to make use of the degree I earned, and I complain about how hard it is to find a job. I do plenty of stuff. 

As I stumble to get my dress shoes on over my blue patterned socks, I hop back into the living room, smoothing down my hair and spreading my arms at my sides. "How do I look?" I ask Dan, who looks up to take in my appearance lazily. 

"You look fine."

"Fine? That's all I get? Fine??" I ask. "Should I change, then?"

"What? No, Phil, you look great, don't worry," he waves me off, then turns back to his screen. 

"Then why did you say that I just look 'fine'?" I put my hands on my hips and whine. 

"Because you worry too much. You'll do great," he assures. "And you look awesome. Where'd you get that shirt?"

"Where do you think?" I respond, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"Ah, nice touch," he laughs. "Well after your interview do you want to celebrate and go out to lunch?"

My heart leaps a little at the idea of going out with him, but I shove the feeling down, knowing he means it in a completely platonic way. "Celebrate what? We won't know if I get the job for a few weeks."

He rolls his eyes. "You'll get the job. And if nothing else, we'll celebrate the fact that you got the interview in the first place."

I sigh, "Yeah, I guess. What time is it?"

"Don't you have a phone, Phillip?" he asks with a huff. 

I click my tongue and glare before going back into my room to unplug it from where it rests on my night stand. 9:15.

"Better?" I mock Dan, lifting my phone so he can see it. He just shrugs and turns to back his computer. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he says shrugging. 

"Obviously there's something wro-"

"See, it doesn't feel so good does it?!" he asks, a small smirk littering his face. 

I roll my eyes. He was mocking me to prove a point. "Whatever, Daniel."

He giggles and looks me up and down again. "You really do look great, Phil. You'll do fantastic."

"Thanks," I reply with a small smile. "Well, you're right. I should probably get going."

He nods and I walk past him, into the kitchen and down the stairs into the lobby. I shake off the sense of dread that comes with hailing a cab. Paranoia mixed with the fact that I've watched more murder shows than I can count has lead me to believe that every cabbie is either a sociopathic murderer or a complete psychopath who will put up a partition and fill the back seat with chloroform then trap me in their basement. It hasn't happened yet, but there's time. 

When a taxi finally pulls over in front of me, I hop into the back and read the address off my phone and then sit on my hands to keep myself from panicking. The cab driver doesn't bother me anymore, I like to think I'm a good judge of character when deciding whether someone is an insane kidnapper or not, and this 60 year old woman with pink hair doesn't seem to be someone who could take me out and trap me. 

She however, doesn't shut up the entire 40 minute car ride to the interview, telling me endless stories of her 6 grandchildren named Marvin, Mitchell, Michelle, Macy, Melissa and Jacob. Jacob is adopted and is 6. Marvin and Mitchell are identical twins and are 15 years old. Macy and Melissa are 2 years apart, but are always together at ages 12 and 14. Michelle is the wild card at 17 years old, and apparently has been experimenting with drugs. To my complete and utter surprise, apparently the cabbie said she'd rather have Michelle experiment safely than go out and about with some "rapscallions", so she baked her a nice batch of weed brownies for her to take home and share with her friends. Now, this cab driver runs a drug ring within a decent sized circle of teenage kids. 

"Wow, you must be a pretty cool grandma," I chuckle a little uncomfortably. 

"Oh, sweetheart, no, I'm just a great baker," she waves me off, pulling over in front of a tall building. I don't leave the car yet, I just look up at the headquarters and gulp. The building reaches the high heights of the sky and is covered top to bottom in tinted windows. There's a revolving door at the front that hasn't stopped spinning since we arrived. "That'll be 24.50, dear," she says sweetly. 

"Uh... alright," I say nervously, pulling the money out of my wallet and slipping it to her. 

"Good luck!" 

I sigh, knowing that now I actually have to get out of the cab so I'm not late and so she can leave. I push the door open slowly, raking out as much time as I can before I have to enter. My phone reads that I have only 10 minutes until the actual interview time, so I gather up my courage and slam the car door behind me, walking on shaky legs through the revolving door. 

The lobby is painted a light grey colour, and there are sleek black chairs lined up in a waiting area in the far back, with magazines and books scattered along a coffee table in the center. To my left there's a large reception desk, behind which a middle aged man is filing paperwork. I make my way in front of the desk and clear my throat softly to gain his attention. He turns with an eyebrow raised and immediately his face lights up. 

"'Ello, and welcome to Ralph Lauren's! How may I help you, sir?" he asks, straightening out a stack of papers on the desk and smiling. 

"Um, my name is Phillip Lester, I'm here for an interview at 10?" I say, but it sounds more like a question. 

"Oh, yes!" he exclaims. "Mr. Gilligan is expecting you! You can head up to his office right away. His office is on the third floor. If you turn right it's the third room down. Number 64. Good luck!"

I blink once, feeling slightly overwhelmed, but I nod, heading over to the lift. It's one of the unnerving lifts that's filled completely with mirrors, and once I press the button for the third floor and the doors start closing, a hand pushes between them to stop it. My heart starts racing and I panic- I already hate being in a small, enclosed moving box, but being in one with someone I don't know makes it worse. I look with dread to see who has entered the lift with me and gasp. 

"PJ!" I exclaim. Seeing the familiar, curly haired man in front of me drops half of my nerves and throws them away. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes light up upon seeing me. "Phil, I could ask you the same thing," he tilts his head to the side. "I work here."

"You work- what? I thought you worked at Luna's?" I ask. I know for a fact he works there, I see him almost every other day. 

"Yeah I only work Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekends third shift," he shrugs. "I have two jobs."

"Wow," I say with a light chuckle. "Well, what do you do here?" 

"I'm an accountant," he says, shrugging and gesturing to the briefcase strapped over his shoulder. He's wearing almost the exact same outfit as me, excluding the shirt. His is plain white, but the rest is the same. "Pretty boring, but it pays well, considering I deal with the money," he laughs. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

"I have an interview," I tell him, just as the lift dings, signaling the fact that we've reached the third floor. "Are you getting off here?" 

"As a matter of fact, I am," he nods once. "An interview? In what department?"

"Design," I say with a little bit of a look towards him. 

"Right! Obviously," he says, hitting himself lightly in the head. 

Turn right and walk down three doors. We reach room 64 and I stop. "Is this Mr. Gilligan's office?" I ask, just to make sure I'm in the right place before knocking on the door and making a fool of myself. 

"Yep," he nods. "Well, it's Tuesday, so stop in tonight and let me know how it goes, yeah?" 

"Yeah, definitely," I nod and smile, waving a little as he keeps walking. "I'll see you then."

I stand stagnant for a moment before mustering up the courage to raise my hand and knock three times on the wooden door. "Come on in," a voice from the other side calls. 

I push the door open slowly, my hand gripping tightly on the handle. "Hello," I say once I'm in the room. 

"Phillip Lester," the familiar voice greets me. 

My eyebrows immediately furrow and I look up, finding the eyes of a long lost man I called my mentor as a child. "Mr. Gilligan?" I ask, feeling my face immediately light up. 

"Long time, no see, Phil," he says with a smile. "Close the door behind you," he instructs, and I do so quickly. "Have a seat." I follow his instructions once more, sitting in the plush swirly chair in front of his long, cluttered desk. 

As a child, Mr. Gilligan was our landlord, and probably the nicest man I'd ever met. He was an artist; and a pretty successful one at that. He'd sold over 150 paintings and was rich when I was younger. He would take me to school on occasion, and talk to me about his art, giving me pieces he didn't want to throw away, but also didn't want to sell. They hang in my room to this day. 

"How are you doing, Phil? You're a little bigger than the last time I saw you," he chuckles, gesturing across the table. He looks practically the same as he did almost twenty years ago. His brown hair has grayed only a little, and he has only a few more laugh lines around his mouth and eyes than he did back then. Other than that, he just looks a little more professional, donning a suit and tie instead of jeans and a polo shirt like he wore everyday when I was little. 

"I'm doing well! How about you? You haven't changed at all," I say, hoping it doesn't sound offensive at all. 

"Only a lot older," he laughs heartily. "I'm good, too, Phil. I've got to say, I was surprised to hear your name around here. I always thought you'd go into the entertainment business, never fashion."

I furrow my eyebrows and cock my head to the side. "Why is that?"

He shrugs. "You're just a demanding presence, that's all. But I'm definitely glad to be the one interviewing you. I've got to say, even without a full on interview, your resume is very impressive, Phil. You interned at Tiffany's in New York?"

"Oh, yes," I shrug. "I spent a year abroad in America. It was a great experience! Although I did get a lot of coffee..."

"Well I think I can say with much confidence that your chances of landing this job are pretty good," he assures me with a wink. I smile widely. "So... catch me up on the world of Phil Lester in the past 20 years."


	5. Chapter 5

I leave Mr. Gilligan's office with more than a little confidence and a smile on my face.

It was great to see a childhood friend who I'm not falling for. For almost two hours we talked through my college experience and the path he took to be the head of a company such as Ralph Lauren. Apparently his artwork was selling insanely quickly and he was so successful that he didn't enjoy painting anymore. He told me that he wanted to have fun painting or drawing or even sculpting and when it turned into a job, he didn't see it as enjoyable anymore. He only saw it as work. So he stopped selling his pieces and started searching for a different source of income even though he had more than enough to live comfortably for the rest of his life.

I think over his words thoroughly while I ride the elevator down and walk out of the lobby, waving at the secretary again. A role model such as Mr. Gilligan isn't the type to give you inspiration in the form of a pep talk, he's the type to have a normal conversation with you and have you leave ready to conquer the world. That's what I love about him, that's what I miss. There's a bubbly sensation in my chest, and my throat is tight in a way that I haven't felt in years. I can do anything; I can run all the way home, spend all my money, finally beat that level on my video games, finish an entire season of Supernatural in a single day... even tell Dan how I feel.

But as I walk out of the building and the pouring rain hits me, I freeze. I can't do any of that. I can't hope for the best, I can't run fifteen miles, I can't even admit my feelings for Dan. I've barely accepted them myself, how would he be able to invite me back to the way we were with open arms? I sigh, already soaking wet and push a hand through my hair to keep it from hitting me in the face anymore.

I should have been expecting the rain, I know how unpredictable the weather in London is. I check my phone, carefully and unsuccessfully trying to keep it from getting wet and see that it's 1:35pm. I slip it back into my pocket and start to hail a cab when I hear a shout.

"Phil! Phil, hey wait, do you need a ride?" I turn around at the voice, seeing PJ waving at me from under the canopy just outside the door of the building. He's holding his satchel over his head to keep his hair from getting wet and gesturing towards his car.

I smile as I let a deep breath out. "Yeah!" I reply with a laugh, jogging over to him.

"I'm on my lunch break, do you want to join me?" he asks as he leads me to his car, the satchel doing little to keep him dry. I shrug, figuring I'll answer with words once we get in.

"I'm going to soak your interior," I say, wary to ruin the plush front seat. He waves me off, sliding into the driver's seat and tossing his bag into the back seat.

"It's fine, she's been through much worse," he chuckles, patting the dashboard fondly. "Woo, it's really coming down out there, huh?" he says as I close the door behind me. I nod with a laugh, strapping the seat belt over my chest. "So where do you want to get lunch?"

I look over and make eye contact with him, smiling a little at his big, goofy grin. "Anywhere is fine with me," I shrug.

"Alright... we can drive through McDonald's if you want?" he asks, probably jokingly so that I'll actually pick a decent place to sit down and have a meal.

"That's fine with me. We can go back to my place if you want to dry off," I return, silently cursing myself for inviting him home when Dan is there. I've told PJ about Dan- briefly of course- but I still don't want Dan knowing that I talk about him when he's not there. For some reason, my brain will go to any extent possible to spend as much time with him as I can, despite any type of obstacle standing in my way. 

"Really?" he asks, looking me up and down as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"Really," I nod, "but I have to warn you that Dan is there and I don't know how pleasant he's going to be."

"Dan? He seems super pleasant, what do you mean? From what you've told me he's a nice guy," PJ shrugs, turning right.

"Well..." I clear my throat, trying to dig up any excuse that may seem remotely plausible as to why I don't want him talking to Dan. "He gets into moods sometimes. I don't know, he's touchy."

He scoffs, flicking his turn signal on and replying, "Please, I work with Cat, I know touchy better than I know myself."

I clear my throat and respond reluctantly, "Okay, just don't say I didn't warn you."

The rest of the two minute drive to get takeout was enveloped in a dense silence, although PJ probably didn't view it that way. When we pulled up to the drive through, he had me repeat my order over him instead of trying to remember it and relay it to the cashier.

"Does Dan want anything?" he whispered when I finished.

"No, he's-" I pause, thinking it through. If Dan was out and about and decided to get food, he would pick something up for me without a second thought. I sigh and repeat what I remember him getting when we were in high school. It nags me that I don't know what his updated order would be, because I haven't been as invested in our friendship as he as. That's not saying I don't enjoy our friendship and engage in it, but he's the more considerate and caring partaker in this, in a strange turn of events because that used to be my role. I have, however, started developing feelings for him again, and since I know they aren't going to be resulting in anything anytime soon, at least, I feel as though it would be unhealthy for me to act caring and considerate towards him as it would do nothing more than make me more irritable.

"Wait, what did they say our total would be?" I say, panicked that I may not have brought enough money or don't have enough on my card. 

PJ waves me off, pulling up to the window and swapping his debit card for a bag of food. "Don't worry about it, it's my treat."

"No, that's okay, I-" I freeze under the stare he gives me and nod my head. "Thank you."

"No problem! I'm going to need directions to your place, though," he says as he pulls away, digging his hand into the bag to snag a fry. I oblige to his request, still a little unsure of my way to the flat, but semi-confident in my directions anyways. 

We make it to Luna's quickly, and PJ points to it, "Hey, I totally work there!"

"Wow, who'da thunk?" I say sarcastically, looking over in his direction to wink at him. His smile deepens a little and his cheeks flush a little before he looks back at the road. My eyebrows furrow involuntarily. Did I just _flirt_ with PJ?

"Okay, where to now?" he asks once we reach an intersection. 

"Take the next right," I say distractedly, watching him probably at an extent to which is uncomfortable to him. He nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek and humming absentmindedly. I didn't mean anything with the wink, it was just a casualty. All this thought of Dan and my feelings is messing with my head. 

"Now what?" he asks after driving down the road he turned on. 

"It's that building, right there on the left!" I say, giving him barely any warning before the driveway leading to the parking lot comes into our view. He slams on the break and wrenches the car left, sliding into the road easier than I would have expected myself to do so. 

"Wow, Phil, I never knew you were so good at giving people directions," he chuckles, almost a little uncomfortably. 

He parks near the Stairwell 3 door, and I shrug inwardly, grateful we wouldn't have to walk _that_ hard. "Alright, let's make our way upstairs," I suggest, grabbing the bag of food, still quite warm as I hold it against my chest. How was I even sure Dan would still be upstairs?

Why must my mind constantly wander to Daniel and his whereabouts and his thoughts and feelings and hungers and wants and needs and... emotions?

"Okay, well I'll follow you, which may turn out to be a bad idea considering our latest experience," PJ speaks up, holding the heavy metal door open behind me with his palm flat against it after I struggle to unlock it. I laugh politely in response, silently apologizing for the awkwardness that I can't help seeping from my pores, especially when any sort of situation involves Dan and me being in his presence. 

We jog up the steps- well, I do at least- quickly, PJ at my heels most of the way, until we reach our floor. Since he parked near a different building entrance than I usually do, it takes me a little longer to maneuver my way through the halls than usual, but not by much until we're standing in front of the apartment door. 

I pause with my hand on the knob briefly, praying to any diety that may inhabit the afterlife that Dan is not only home alone but also decent. 

I take in a deep breath and push the door open, PJ right behind me. My hair is still sticking damp to my forehead and my clothes are still heavy with rain, pulling down on my hips. 

"Phil?" that familiar, warmth filled voice asks the moment I close the door behind me, adding a little effort to make the noise loud enough to be heard around the flat.

"Yeah, it's me," I reply, meeting eyes with Dan only a moment later when he walks around the wall separating the kitchen and the living room. 

"How did the interview g-" he pauses abruptly, smile faltering when PJ steps to the right of me so he isn't directly in back of me. "Oh, hello," he says, grinning wider this time and walking closer to raise his arm and shake PJ's hand, an immediate lower tone invading his voice. My eyebrows furrow immediately upon seeing my companion take Dan's hand. "I'm Dan Howell," he tilts his head to the side, a grotesquely adorable smirk upon his lips. 

Their hands stay clasped far beyond my comfort level as he replies, "PJ Ligouri. I'm a friend of Phil's."

"Right," he says, still holding his hand and gazing into PJ's eyes. 

"Well, _anyways,_ " I interrupt their gag-worthy interaction with a harsh tone and a sharp 'ahem'. "We brought lunch!"

Dan finally drops his hand, but not before smiling at him first, then turns to me, shocked to meet my disapproving gaze. "What'd you get?" he asks, enthusiasm invading his tone. Does he know my thoughts on the situation that had just played out in front of me? That hardly discreet flirting he had done right before my eyes? The tension he'd created in the room with someone other than me? The jealousy he'd caused to bubble up in the back of my throat and chest?

And why is it that I feel jealous? I don't have any reason to! Dan isn't my boyfriend, never has been and still isn't. He's my roomate and friend, nothing more. That, however, doesn't give him the right to take one of the only other friends I have and flirt with him! I know for a fact that Dan would be able to get PJ into bed, he'd be able to get anyone into bed if he tried hard enough. If he did this, though, he probably wouldn't call him back, and I'd be stuck in the awkward position where I'd have to cover Dan's ass for not returning his texts and advances, and probably never go to Luna's again. 

"I'm going to change," is my response for some reason. I set the bag down on the island in the middle of the kitchen and grab Dan's wrist on my way back to my room. "Can I speak to you for a second, Daniel?" I ask distractedly. 

"Uh, yeah?" he says, stumbling along after me to my room. I pull him inside after me, then gesture for him to close the door behind him, starting to dig into my dresser drawers for dry clothes. I unbutton my dress shirt, peeling it uncomfortably off my skin, leaving it damp and itchy until I grab a towel from my closet. "What did you want to talk ab-"

"You better not bang PJ," I say, finally turning around to face Dan. He quiets immediately, eyes raking over my torso before moving back up to my face. He swallows thickly, fast to shake off whatever sense of nostalgia had overcome him. He never let any emotion linger on his face for too long, especially when it had to do with emotions, mostly when they were associated with me. 

"Why... would you think I'm going to have sex with a man I literally just met?" he asks and I scoff, ruffling the fluffy towel through my hair, then slipping into the Pokemon t-shirt. 

"Because, Dan I've seen you flirt before, I know what it looks like when you want to fuck someone!" I say in a harsh whisper so he won't hear us from the kitchen. It startles both of us that I swore at Dan, but if anything, I'm more fazed by it because of the lack of cursing I do and the fact that it simply came out. 

"Like who, Phil? Like you?" he snaps, louder than I was before his mouth falls open and he blinks quickly, looking just as surprised to have said it as I was hearing it.

I stay silent, my jaw going slack and my eyes widening. This is the first time he's addressed our past relationship or our romantic life in years. "W-what?" I stutter the word out. 

I had been talking about Chase, from the gala with Zoe and Louise what seemed like so long ago. I was talking about watching him flirt with a handsome American stranger, then hearing him have sex with the guy a few mere hours later. 

"I- I didn't mean that, Phil, I just..." his eyes are huge and concerned. "It just sort of came out, but I didn't mean it."

"Didn't mean what? You're right, you did flirt with me," I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head, looking up to meet my eyes. 

"Can we pretend this conversation didn't happen, please?" he pleads with me. I don't say a word, but nod reluctantly, looking towards the door in an attempt for him to leave my room. He does so quickly, without so much as a goodbye and I struggle my way out of the wet jeans pasted to my legs, then walk over to sit on the edge of my bed. 

I don't _want_ to pretend the conversation didn't happen. I want to talk about it. I want to talk about _us._ Our relationship, our past. Everything about it. But knowing Dan, when he says he's going to pretend something didn't happen, he will do everything in his power to act like neither of us had even said a word to one another. If anything, he'll have sex with PJ just to act like I never asked him not to. That or he'll just pull in a random guy from the streets and bring him home to prove to me I'm wrong. 

I change into a different pair of boxers quickly, remembering that I had just pushed the two men together without me, and then pull on a pair of sweatpants, going for a more casual look. The moment I step out of my room, I see Dan leaning on the doorframe of his own bedroom, watching PJ holding a small stack of clothes and chuckling lowly.

"I'm fairly certain they'll fit you, Peej," he says with a wink. "I'll leave you be for now," he adds, closing the door and turning around to come face to face with me. He gasps, then laughs, scanning my outfit quickly. "Damn, dude, you really snuck up on me," he jokes, tapping my shoulder endearingly then walking past me into the kitchen. 

"Stop flirting with him!" I demand, putting my hands flat on the table in front of me as he takes out the burgers and fries and lays them out on the table. 

"What do you mean?" he chuckles, crumpling the bag in his hands and throwing it into the garbage. 

"Don't do this, Dan," I shake my head. I knew that by agreeing to 'pretend it didn't happen' I'd be subjecting myself to the torture of living with Dan in denial, meaning he'll refuse he ever even went into the room with me to talk. "If you keep flirting with him, he'll want to sleep with you, and then you won't call him back, because you can't afford attachments, then I won't have any friends."

"You'll have me," he offers with a shrug, looking through the items on the table before a crease forms between his eyebrows. "You remembered my order?" he asks quietly, looking up to meet my eyes with his dark ones. 

"Yeah, obviously I remembered it," I reply softly, taking an involuntary step towards him just as he does the same to me. We're only a few mere feet apart, nothing in comparison to how I was feeling towards him only two minutes ago. 

Who knew a McChicken without mayo could make such a drastic change in your emotions?

Dan is moving to take another step towards me, causing my heart to flutter, when PJ walks in wearing a pair of gym shorts and a Captain America shirt. "Hey, what should I do with these gross clothes?" he asks with a laugh. His hair has curled even more after being wet, if that was possible, and it makes him look tousled and actually really attractive. 

Both Dan and I are staring open-mouthed at him before I catch myself and walk towards him, snapped out of whatever reverie Daniel had put me in by walking towards me. "There's a laundry basket in his room in the corner. I can wash it for you and give them back some day at Luna's," I offer, pointing back to my roomate's bedroom, then turning around to look at him now that we're alone again. 

Just as I'd suspected, he's turned back around, starting to eat the sandwich and nudging past me to get into the living room. I sigh and snatch my food up from the table, angry with myself for some reason, and angry at PJ. If he wouldn't have come in at that time, what would have happened? Would Dan have kissed me? Would I have kissed him back? Would he have simply thanked or hugged me? 

Now there was no guarantee.

So I make my way into the living room after him, sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch and watching in approval as he turns on Men In Black.

When PJ comes in shortly after me, he flops down between us on the couch, adding such a tension to the room that Dan starts to fidget. My friend, of course, is completely and utterly oblivious to it as we shift uncomfortably in the thickness of the air. 

"What do you say to a drink?" I blurt out after twenty minutes of awkward silence, aside from the movie and a few soft chuckles coming from PJ. 

"That sounds great!" Dan replies, a little too eagerly. 

"Drinks? I couldn't imagine you drinking," PJ admits, talking about me. I roll my eyes playfully. "Well, actually, I guess I can imagine you drinking, just not... drunk."

I shrug and am about to shoot back a witty response when Dan snorts, "Phil is a mess when he's plastered."

I stay quiet and don't move, just watching my curly haired companion turn to look at him, surprised. "Really?!"

The few times Dan had seen me drinking, I'd been sober enough to walk in a straight line and lie to my parents about having a party. He's only ever seen me full on hammered once, after we'd broken up...

_I stumbled into the kitchen of the frat party, already on my fourth screwdriver. It had hardly been two months since I'd left for university and I was going through Dan withdrawals. Up until that night, I'd had my best friend Jenna to keep me distracted, and to hold me back whenever I'd try to all him or drive home, but she was off somewhere with a random guy she'd probably found. I was downing drinks far too quickly for my safety, but I couldn't help it. It was Dan's birthday and I hadn't even texted him a quick 'Happy B-day, pal!'. Jenna refused to let me._

_It was probably in my best interest, but that didn't mean I had to be happy about it. So there I was, necking the rest of my fourth and debating on a fifth when a curvy girl, who happened to be significantly shorter than me, started grinding up against my leg, her head barely reaching my chest. "Hey, baby, how you doing tonight?" she asked in a very slurred tone._

_I'd laughed as though I was incredibly more sober than her, and attempted to say, "You're going to be making some bad choices tonight," when really what came out was, "Time to make some really bad choices!"_

_The party sort of went downhill from there. I took three shots of tequila and started going crazy-  in the sense that I had zero idea what was happening and tripped through the house until I fell into a huge guy making out with his girlfriend._

_"What you think this is funny, punk?!?" he'd screamed, slamming me against the wall. I had giggled, raising a finger to my lips to shush him. "You're shushin' me!? You're shushin me!?" he yelled again, then pulled his elbow back and punched me once in the face, hard enough to make me black out for a short moment. His girlfriend had, of course, been trying to pull him off me the whole time, but he seemed to be under some sort of influence, too, so he hadn't been the best listener until she started kissing him again. He let me fall to the ground, and that's when I woke up, still drunk out of my mind, but now sober enough to know I wanted to leave._

_I stumbled out of the house, dizzy from the blow and put my hand to my eye, pulling it away from the tender skin to see blood on my hand. I groaned and pulled out my phone, knowing my friend Diana was always there for me, and would be able to find me and pick me up since I had no recollection of the location of this party. Jenna was the one to drag me out tonight._

_I got to the 'D' section of my contacts and called the first one listed under the alphabet letter._

_It took a few rings for the person on the end to pick up, and when they did, it was not Diana._

_"Hello?" a low, sleep-deprived voice answered._

_"Hey, Diana, I don't... know where I am?" I said, my voice rising at the end to make it sound like a question. "And a horndog... guy beat me up," I slurred, using my sleeve to wipe the blood from where my eyebrow seemed to be cut and the liquid was dripping into my eyes. That guy's fist was, like, the size of a tree trunk._

_"Phil? Phil, are you okay?" he asked. I pulled the phone away from my face to see Dan's contact and decided it was fate._

_"No, I'm... bleeding," I admitted, pulling off my sweatshirt to press it over my eye. It burned as the blood continued to drip into it. "I can't see," I whined into the microphone._

_"Are you drunk? Are you hurt?"_

_"Yeaaahhhh....ssss," I added the noise at the end on a whim, unsure if I wanted to say "yeah" or "yes"._

_"Alright, I'm coming to get you, send me your location," he commanded._

_"Oh, Danny-boy, you know I love it when you get all rough with me," I giggled, but somehow obliged to his commands, taking much longer to figure out how to work my iPhone's features than I was proud of._

_"Okay... okay, I'll be there in ten minutes," he promised, and I heard the sound of an old car grumbling to life. "Should I stay on the line?"_

_"Nahh, I'll be- woah!" I started walking to the front of the house, and reached a small incline, tripping over it and getting a face full of dirt. "No, I'm good," I repeated from on the grass._

_"Alright, I'll call you back when I get there, oka-"_

_I blacked out after that, and thankfully I was already sprawled out on the grass in front of the house, so I didn't fall and hurt myself anymore than I already had. The next conscious moment I had was of Dan basically carrying me to the passenger's seat of his dad's old car and buckling me up._

_I wavered in and out of consciousness on the way back to his house, and once we got there, I was leaning almost completely all of my weight on him as he continually shushed me on our way to the bathroom._

_"Bathroom? Why the bathroom, Dan?" I asked, tightening the hold I had around his shoulders and kissing his neck shamelessly. He gasped and gently detached my face from him. I pouted for a moment, but made it to the bathroom._

_"Sit on the toilet- make sure the seat is closed!" he instructed, turning the light on, then turning around to see the damage I'd described. He gasped. "Shit, Phil, what did you do to the guy?" he asked, already digging under the sink for a first aid kit. He immediately pulled out alcohol wipes to clean the cut above my eye, and then around it, too. His face was only a few inches from mine while he wiped my face with the alcohol._

_"Happy birthday, Dan," I whispered, remembering the reason for my drunkeness that night. He sighed, refusing to meet my eyes._

_I was surprised at this point that he was helping me at all, considering what a dick I was to him._

_He dug through the kit again and pulled out the tape, using it to close the cut, then pushing  my hair off of my forehead on a whim. He finally moved his gaze so it was set on my eyes again._

_"Thank you, Phil," he replied quietly. "We should probably get you to bed," he said softly after a few moments of me just watching him. "You can brush your teeth and I'll get you some pajamas. Can you promise not to choke on my toothbrush?" he asked, handing it to me, along with a mint paste._

_"Oh, come on, babe, you and I both know I don't choke on anything," I said, adopting the pet name and winking at him._

_"Right," he said sarcastically, shaking his head and walking to his bedroom._

_I brushed my teeth, with more difficulty than I was expecting, and rinsed my mouth out quickly, excited to fall asleep in Dan's arms that night. I knew, no matter how drunk I was, that this was an experience I wouldn't have again. All I wanted was to have him hold me, even if it was for the last time._

_When I entered the room, Dan was sitting on the bed, pajamas lying next to him. I closed the door behind me, and walked over to him, changing quickly before turning off the lights. I lingered near the door, and when I turned around, Dan was standing only a few feet away from me, a blanket in his hands._

_"Are you okay if I sleep in here with you?" he asks. "I can sleep on the couch if you-"_

_He should have known he wouldn't have a chance to finish his offer, because my mouth landed on his hard, and my hands moved up to cup his cheeks. He kissed back feverishly, tossing the blanket to the side and grabbing my hips, walking me backwards until my back hit his bedroom door. He trapped me against it with his body flush on mine and caged me between his arms, either hand pressed on the door next to my sides. I parted my lips, inviting his tongue into my mouth, and moaned into his, so caught up in him that I was practically breathing from his lungs._

_When his hands moved from the door, they shifted to run along my thighs, giving them a nudge to show me that he wanted me to wrap them around his waist. I jumped up, obliging to his wishes, and he pressed me harder against the door, his hips digging into mine. I pulled away from his mouth, hoping to look at him. To soak in every minute detail of his face, his lips, his eyes. I could tell he did the same before stepping back, maintaining eye contact and taking on all my weight._

_He let me drop onto the bed and when he climbed on top of me and pressed a wet kiss onto my lips I let out a whimper, so thankful to have his mouth on mine again that I didn't know what to do with myself. I parted his lips with my tongue, massaging his with my own and pulling at his hair, causing him to groan loudly,  vibrating into the kiss. He pulled away for only a moment to strip me of my shirt, then went back to giving into my wishes, attacking my mouth with his._

_He worked expertly, letting more of his weight fall on me, then letting his hips grind down into mine, sending a burst of pleasure and need through me. I gasped into his mouth, moaning his name, remembering how it felt to say it with him hovering over me. He did it again, this time moving his mouth to my neck and sucking hard. He knew there would be marks, that's why he did it. Whether he knew it or not, Dan liked to mark his territory, even if it was only his for a night._

_I slid my hand down his body, moving it around to cup his ass and squeeze it before bringing it around and wrapping my fingers along his already hard length. He hummed against my neck, licking his way up to suck behind my ear. I made noises with him, despite the fact that I was the one pleasuring him, because I knew they turned him on. He bit down particularly hard  where my shoulder meets my neck, causing me to gasp and whine, and pump my hand up and down faster. He went back to sucking on the same spot, moaning into it until he finally came in my hands._

_"Dan," I whispered, practically ripping his shirt off of him and wiping his come into it. I dropped it near the edge of the bed, figuring we'd need it later. I pulled his face back down to meet his lips and almost felt like crying because of all the emotion packed into our kisses. "I love you," I said against his mouth, causing him to thrust his hips down into mine again and let his tongue skate across my teeth before meeting mine. "So much," I whispered, just barely pulling away so our lips could brush while I talked._

_"Shh," he said, shaking his head. "Don't talk... don't," he practically begged, starting to lick and kiss at my neck again, moving slowly down my chest while doing so. "But I love you, too," he promised me, kissing down to my torso and hooking his fingers into the waistband of the pajamas he'd given me. I gasp and dig my fingers into his hair. "And I don't even know whether or not you'll remember this after tonight, but I don't care," he said, pulling the pants down and licking up my V-line. A moan escapes my lips, and I tug roughly at his roots. "I'm so selfish," he laughed, kissing just above my shaft in a shallow attempt to tease me. "Because I'm doing this anyways... I'm doing this for me, Phil, because even if you won't remember it," he says, putting a hand at my base. I suck in a shallow breath, panting already. "I will. And I'll never forget tonight."_

"Isn't that right, Phil?" Dan asks with a laugh. 

"Uh... sorry, what?" I blink away the memories, unable to look at him as of right now. 

"You're a lightweight," he teases. 

I look up to meet PJ's curious and playful eyes, then start to feel dizzy. I stand from the couch, bright spots appearing in my vision and disappearing just as quickly, as though I'd been lying upside down and stood up too quickly. 

"Right..." I say breathily. 

"Woah, mate, are you okay?" PJ asks as I stumble across the room. 

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine- just a little.... tired?" I assure, but not very well considering the fact that I almost immediately lose my balance and take hold of the chair. I feel a hand on my back and look up to see Dan looking concerned. 

"Phil, do you need to lie down?" he asks. I nod, still not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Okay," he says quietly, hitching my arm up and over his neck, and wrapping his around my waist in a familiar and dark sensation. I use him for support as we walk to my room. He helps me get into bed and pulls the covers up to my chin. 

This time I finally look up to see his eyes, and they look just as concerned as the last time I'd stumbled into his house drunkenly. 

"Feel better, okay?" he says. I nod and he leaves the room, turning the light off before closing the door. 

"Is he going to be okay?" PJ's voice asks. 

"I think you should go."


	6. Chapter 6

I wake up when the sun has already set, and my bedroom is filled with blackness, a horrid taste in my dry mouth. I sit up slowly and try to dampen the stabbing pain throbbing just behind my eyes. With great difficulty, I slide my feet off the bed so they're dangling over the side and my feet are flat on the wooden floor.

I groan low in my throat, recalling the events from earlier. Why did PJ have to come into the kitchen at that time? Who knows what would have happened if he'd stayed only a few minutes longer?

Then again, nothing may have happened at all, and Dan and I could have gone on just as before. After all it was only a McDonald's meal, nothing more. With that in mind, I rub the sleep out of my eyes and stand, slipping my cell phone from the nightstand and into my back pocket. I let myself find the wall to lean my weight on before I leave the room. I'm almost positive Dan will still be awake since his sleep schedule is basically fucked at this point.

Just as I'd expected I heard a racket occurring in the kitchen. I make my way into the room, still using the walls to steady myself as dizziness continues to swirl in my mind. "Dan, I was _trying_ to sleep, you know. It's rude to-" I stop short when he finally comes into my line of sight, his position more than a little compromising. "Are you _kidding me!?_  " the words escape my mouth loudly with a harsh determination. 

Dan is sitting up on the counter, knees parted just enough for another man's body to land between them. His hands are dug into a curly mop of hair of hair atop the head of a thin and utterly familiar body. Upon hearing my voice he raises his head from where it was formerly positioned in a convenient position for shoving his tongue down someone's throat. His eyes widen at the fact that he was caught and his jaw drops. 

"Dan, I distinctly asked you not to-" I start to scold him, pushing away my own feelings towards him just to yell at him for his intentions of having sex with the one man I made off limits to him when the other man turns around, lips swollen from having been on Dan's. "Oh," I breathe out, startled by the fact that it's not PJ, but an equally attractive man, probably years younger than Dan or I. 

"Hi," he says in a voice that's deeper than I was expecting to come from him, and breathier. "I'm Troye," he introduces himself, shameless at the fact that he was caught and steps away from Dan to raise his hand to me. My jaw is hanging slightly ajar as I take it in mine. "You must be Phil. It's great to finally meet you."

"Uh... yeah, I'm Phil," I say, glancing over to where Dan hops off of the counter, cheeks flushed and looking an even mixture of guilty and embarrassed. "How did you... know that?" does Dan _talk_ about me to the men he dates?

"Oh, I work with Dan," he shrugs, an easy going smile lighting up his sharp features. "Wow, you're taller than I was expecting."

I shrug, a nervous chuckle escaping me when I realize he still hasn't let go of my hand. Dan approaches us now, finally speaking up and putting his  hand on Troye's back, looking down then back up at me. "Come on, Troye," he ushers him around me, and I assume they're heading to Dan's room. 

"I guess I'll see you guys later, then," I say reaching for my coat where it rests on the kitchen island. I'd rather not be around to hear the squeaking bed springs or the noises either of them would make. Jealousy once again climbs up my body with its claws digging through me every step. I don't bother putting it on before letting my hand fall to the knob, turning to look where they still stood in the opening leading to the hallway. 

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?" Troye asks in a sultry tone as Dan says, "Alright, bye, Phil."

They look at one another, confused and I chuckle, "I'm good, maybe later." There's no question to what my answer would be if it was only Dan who invited me to bed, but since it's not, I have no choice but to decline. I'm not the type to have spontaneous one night stands. At least not with people I don't know. And besides, it's not like Troye isn't my type; I'm pretty sure he would be nearly _everyone's_ type with his stupid cheekbones and beautiful eyes. 

"If you change your mind, you know where to find me," he replies with a shrug and a wink. I hear Dan scoff as I open the door and smile one last time before walking out and hopping down the steps two at a time. 

There's practically nothing I would've wanted to see less than Dan about to have sex with another guy after I'd practically begged him not to do so with a completely different man. I don't know what to do with the night, especially considering the fact that the only other friend I have has me worried.

I push away my paranoia and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking the time. It's 2am, meaning PJ is still working and I can go to talk to him, and maybe spill my feelings and thoughts to him. Maybe he'll have some tequila to throw in my coffee, too, which would be extensively pleasing. 

I shrug and start making my way to _Luna's_ with Dan on my mind the whole way. The streets are as empty as I would expect them to be at this hour, but I still pass a few familiar homeless faces and stop to talk briefly, pulling out a few notes for my three regulars. I still have yet to learn their names, but they all know mine. Whenever I stop to smile at them, or slip them a few bucks, they just light up and start talking, thankful to have any sort of positivity directed towards them. Other than that, I don't take any detours while walking to the cafe, now genuinely excited to see PJ. 

No matter what eats away at me, I know there's no reason for it because he's a nice enough guy to oblige to my wishes of staying away from Dan, even if Dan's not. I reach for the door and practically breathe a sigh of relief upon entering the small, hipster coffee shop. 

"Phil!" his voice startles me, although I should be used to it at this point. "I didn't think you'd come," PJ says, walking over to me and abandoning his station behind the cash register. 

"Of course I'll come," I reply, then look up to meet his eyes with a sigh. "That's not true. Dan has a boy at home with him. I caught them making out and I'm not really interested in listening to them bang."

A look of amused understanding invades his face and he raises a hand to fall on my shoulder. "I feel ya, mate," he chuckles. "Well, come on, I'll get you a latte on the house."

"Actually," I interject as he leads me to the table closest to the register just in case another customer comes in. "Do you have anything a little stronger?" I ask. Yeah, yeah, I know I shouldn't use alcohol to drown out my feelings, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't help. 

"What, like espresso?" he asks, looking hopeful. I give him a pointed look and he sighs. "Yeah, I have some rum in back... maybe brandy?" He starts digging through cabinets under which the extra coffee beans are stored. He pulls out the bottles and I nod to the brandy. "Do you want anything with it? Or are you gonna take it in shots?"

I think over this briefly. I would rather get shitfaced quickly, but from past experience, I've realized I lose most of my instincts. Sounds perfect. "I guess I'll do shots," I say and he looks conflicted for a moment. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I'll just do shots with you, too," he admits, putting up two of the cute little espresso shot glasses on the counter on the table in front of me, along with the bottle. "The only people who will come in this morning are the regulars, and they won't care." I want to battle him on the issue, but he's right. There are only about four people who ever come in between 10 and 5- when his shift ends- myself included. And they aren't completely assured to come in, so we should be safe. He fills both glasses to the brim with the transparent brown liquid and raises his to cheer it with mine. I do so as well, tapping his glass with mine and downing it quickly. 

"So..." he begins, already refilling the glasses. "Why are you so upset that Dan is banging this guy in your apartment that you feel the need to get shitfaced?" he asks, looking up to meet my eyes with his piercing green ones. I clear my throat and look down to where my glass is filled again. I throw it back, wanting to loosen up before admitting my love for the guy. 

"I don't know," I lie, tapping the glass distractedly on the wooden table in front of me. He scoffs and gives me a knowing look when I finally meet his eyes. 

"I don't believe that for a second," he accuses with a playful glare. "When did you start to have feelings for him?"

I watch, mesmerized by the liquid sloshing up the sides of my little glass. "About eight years ago," I say distractedly. 

"Woah, I didn't know you two had a history," he says, eyes wide watching me take the shot smoothly. "Did you like... know each other in high school? Did you date?"

I shake my head, tapping my fingers on the table. "No, but we were best friends."

"So you like... never told him how you felt?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "Maybe you should slow down," he warns as I reach for the bottle to fill the glass again. I sigh and let the bottle clink back down onto the table and wiping my hands over my face. 

"Actually, yeah I did," I shrug, trying to mentally prepare myself for confessing our confessions to one another. Now that I think about it, I've never told anyone other than Jenna about Dan and I, and our feelings for one another and I only told her so she'd keep me far away from him. "Right before I left for university."

"What and he didn't feel the same way?" he lets his chin settle atop his open palm, elbow balancing on the table. 

"No, he did," I say quietly, looking up to meet his eyes. "We kind of... had a one night stand the night I told him and he told me," I admit and his eyebrows furrow. 

"One night stand? You professed your undying love for him and so did he, so you thought you should just have sex once and then... just not?" his eyes are narrowed, his curiosity now piqued. 

"Well I knew that he would hold me back from doing what I wanted in my life, and I told myself that I wouldn't let anyone keep me from being successful. I loved him so much," I say, now reaching across the table to snatch the bottle, filling my little glass before PJ could protest. "I would have done just about anything for him, so how could I stay? I had myself convinced that I had to leave him and cut him off completely. We had a little hookup, like, a few months later; I was drunk. And before I met up with him at Zoe's party, I hadn't seen since."

He blows a deep breath past his lips and watches intently whilst I drink the shot. "And you're starting to have feelings for him again?" he questions quietly. I only nod, knowing I may be making too big of a deal out of this, but I don't care. I can't bring myself to feel any type of guilt or contempt for feeling the way I do about Dan. "Why don't you talk to him about it?"

I scoff, running a hand through my hair, probably causing it to stick up every which way. "Please... I don't want to ruin a good thing. We've gone this far without addressing it," I say, then sigh. "Well except for yesterday." He swiftly throws back another shot and raises an eyebrow in a silent request for me to elaborate. "I asked him not to..." I look down, then back up at PJ, kind of embarrassed to tell him about this. "I noticed him flirting with you and I asked him not to do that. Not to pursue you, and he made a comment about when he pursued me," I say, feeling his clear eyes- more alluring by the second- dig into mine. 

"You cared about whether he slept with me?" he asks. 

I chuckle, groaning into my hands. "I know... I know, but I don't want him to be with anyone else, and I don't want to lose you. Maybe you wouldn't have even pursued a relationship with him, but I'm biased and could imagine practically everyone else jumping at the chance to be with him," I shrug. 

PJ is looking down at his cup, swirling it to watch the small few drops of liquid at the bottom swish around. "It's okay, I know how you feel," he says, and I wonder if PJ is getting over anyone, too. "But, honestly, I find it hard to believe that you think I want to be with Dan," he speaks lowly, quietly and blinks a few times before shifting in his chair and looking up to meet my eyes, his beginning to glaze.  

Understanding starts to build within me, and I swallow thickly. I like PJ, and I'm definitely attracted to him, but I couldn't imagine having a relationship with him. I could imagine other things, but not feelings and emotional attachments. "I-"

"Are you planning on going back to your place tonight?" he asks curiously and repeating the swirling cup motion without breaking eye contact with me. 

I shrug and shake my head. "I don't want to," I admit. "I don't want to hear the two of them, and I don't really want to have to deal with Dan in the morning. I'll probably hang around here until you get off, then go back anyways, though."

"You can come back to my place with me, if you want," he offers. "I was planning on taking off early, anyways. I have a spare room you can sleep in," he suggests, tapping his glass down on the table before quickly adding, "If you want, that is."

I remain quiet, thinking over the idea and playing the nights possibilities over and over in my head before deciding that my drunken self is perfectly content with every outcome the morning could bring. "Are you sure? That would be great, Peej," I say, reaching over to wrap my hand around his wrist. He looks at my fingers, then back up to my face as I grin, "Thank you."

He only nods once and stands, putting the cap on the brandy and taking our mugs, hooking his fingers through the handles. "I only live a few blocks away, so we can walk if you're comfortable with it." 

"Yeah, that's fine," I reply, standing up as well and pushing my chair in behind me. 

He doesn't say anything as he rinses the cups and tosses them in the sink, causing a clanking noise to ring out through the shop. Quickly, he locks the doors in the back and seems eager when he comes back to where I stand by the door, almost as much as I feel. I'm not going to do anything with PJ, am I? I know that I have a lot of pent up feelings and emotions, most that I probably wouldn't even feel conflicted about working through with someone like PJ, but I don't know if he would agree with that philosophy. 

I seem to be proven wrong as he grabs my wrist, almost dragging me out of the door behind him and turning around the just make sure they're locked the right way. He keeps a hard hold on my arm as we briskly walk through the darkened streets, cold air nipping at our exposed faces and I grow anxious. I've never been good at one night stands, and I don't know if that's what this is or not. By the way we're both stumbling about, I have no reason but to think that he feels the same way I do, wants the same things. 

As we round our third corner, he slows in front of a short building that could probably house four decent sized apartments. As he starts walking down the walkway to the entrance, and I slide my hand down on a  whim, sinking my fingers between his. He pauses, turning around to look at me with a dark look in his eyes. I tilt my head to the side and smile faintly, not wanting the bubbly feeling in my head to go away, and wanting nothing more at this point than to pin PJ against a wall and pretend that he's Dan. 

This seems to light a fire underneath him, because as we were walking briskly before, we're now practically running into his house, and I laugh, my mind light and fluffy, his I imagine the same way. He drops my hand to unlock the door with unsteady hands, and once he gets it open he leads me inside, jogging up a staircase all the way to the right of what couldn't even be considered a lobby. I was close- there are five doors that I can see, and I imagine one leads to a laundry room but I don't have time to think about it further, because he gets his apartment door unlocked and yanks me in. 

Before I have a moment to think, I'm being pinned against the door, and a pair of unbelievably soft lips are on mine. I gasp, surprised and amused by how eager he is, but as much as I hate to admit it, it's a pretty big turn on. I move my arms up to wrap around his neck and arch my back from the door so our bodies are pressed together. His hands press flat against my back, encouraging me to do so. He makes a sound that's a mix between a sigh and a moan when I part my lips, and starts stumbling backwards, bringing me with him to what I imagine is his bedroom. I taste the alcohol on his lips and tongue, and ultimately it just encourages me to kiss him harder. 

"Wait, wait, wait," I say when we get into his bedroom. "Are you okay with this?" I ask.

He laughs, "I think I'm really okay with it-" he cuts himself off by kissing my neck, pressing me up against his bedroom door this time and trapping me between it and his body. I hum contently, holding his head in my hands as he does so. 

"You know I don't want-"

"I know," he says against the skin on my neck, brushing his teeth against it. "Me neither," he says. So I was right, he's probably getting over someone, too. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Do I seem unsure?" he laughs, running his tongue along my throat and sucking harshly. I gasp and laugh. 

"Not particularly," I say, still smiling as he starts laughing, too. "We should talk about it really quick- mm- just to make sure," I gasp when he bites down and he moves to the other side of my neck, working his mouth over it expertly. There's no doubt in my mind I'll have hickies littering my throat tomorrow, and I'm not opposed, really at all. 

"Okay," he says, pulling away, and suddenly I'm left cold. He takes my hand and leads me over to his bed, sitting on the edge and running a hand through his hair. 

"Tell me about him," I say, swallowing hard and trying to focus. I know it's the right thing to do, to wait at least two minutes before having sex with PJ just so I can understand his motives. 

His eyebrows furrow and he looks as though he's going to question how I knew there was another guy, but the tension releases quickly as he accepts it. "His name is Chris," he says, removing his hand from mine to rest it on my thigh. "We've been dating for almost three years and we broke up at the beginning of the month... he said I wasn't giving him what he needed," he sighs, running his thumb down to my knee and back up repeatedly. "Which is true, I work so much that I can't even kiss him before he goes to sleep or before I leave for work," he groans, running his hand through his hair again. "I was a terrible boyfriend, and I just- fuck, I love him so much, I can't...." he looks over to me, and I lean forward instinctively, though there's not much distance to cover between us. Just as our lips touch, he hesitates, as if worried that his confession made me change my mind, but it honestly did the opposite.

"Kiss me," I whisper, my lips already brushing against his. 

He doesn't even pause to think again before obliging to my wishes, taking my face in his hands and pushing me back onto his bed with his body flush on mine and falling steadily between my legs. I moan into his mouth, glad to feel some sort of distraction from Dan. It's been over a month since I kissed someone, and years since I've kissed another guy, up until only a few minutes ago. 

The sensation is familiar and different all in a strange way. His masculinity is almost intimidating to me, but my lips and stomach are buzzing with electricity, and I keep an iron grip on his hard biceps as he parts his lips to deepen our kiss. He sighs into it, moving his hands to the bed next to either side of my head, keeping himself from falling on top of me despite the fact that having his weight to anchor me is all I really want right now. 

"Phil," he gasps against me when I pull his hips down onto mine with my legs. I shift my hips and flip us so I'm sitting on his waist and he's laying flat on his back, hands now gripping my thighs. I look into his eyes briefly before ascending my mouth onto his once more, and this time the heat between us is electric, and everything moves faster than before. It's familiar and reminds me of my experiences with Dan. Although they may have been brief, they were heavy and passionate and unforgettable. PJ and I are going through the same motions, and everything is hot and heavy, but I don't feel as much passion. I don't feel the endless supply of love for him, or the swelling in my chest and throat or even the urge to cry because of how strongly I feel towards him.

I do, however, feel a different swelling at the moment. I have a short, incredibly brief argument in my mind as to how far I plan on going with PJ. I ultimately decide that I don't care what lengths we stop at, and won't end until he tells me otherwise, since he certainly doesn't seem opposed when I roll my hips down against his. He groans, sliding his hands up from my thighs to run his fingertips over my back, then around to my chest, then up farther until he pulls his lips from mine and lifts my shirt from my chest. When I don't initiate the kiss due to the fact that I want to make sure he wants this just as much as I do right now, he lifts his head to meet my mouth. 

That being all the approval I was seeking, I make an inhumane noise similar to a low wine and cup his jaw in my right hand, my tongue eager to meet his in his warm, inviting mouth. This seems only to spur him on as he trails his fingers down my back, making me shiver, and then to my hips where his fingers dig in deep. I moan softly when he guides them through the rolling motion I'd made before, and lifts his own to meet mine, sending  warm bursts of pleasure through me. 

He pushes his fingers into my waistband and starts working them over my hips and down my legs until I kick them off, letting them fly to the foot of the bed and shifting. I nudge his legs apart with my knee and try to multitask, still kissing him hard and thoroughly, but also unbuttoning his jeans and rushing to rid him of them in a needy fervor. Almost immediately, he pulls my hips to his, grinding my groin against his again and moaning. 

I pull away from his mouth to run my tongue along his neck. He shudders under me, still working my hips in heavy thrusts against his. I nudge my lips along his neck and under his jaw until I find the spot that makes him gasp and begin to suck on it. He starts breathing harder, abandoning my hips and bringing his hands up to tangle in my hair. I don't stop grinding into him though, only spurred on by the little noises he's making and the way he's pulling at the roots of my hair roughly. 

"Oh, _god_ , Phil," he gasps when I run my teeth over the spot I've been working at and bite down gently, running the skin between my teeth. 

He pulls my face back and kisses me again, pushing his tongue between my teeth and letting it fit along mine, touching it gently before pulling back. I move my lips back to his neck, leaving marks on both sides of his neck. His hands trail masterfully along my bare skin, making me shiver and moan against his smooth and bruised neck. I gasp, in the middle of running my tongue over one of the marks when his hand found its way to my length. 

"Do you want to do this Phil?" he asks, and I pull back to look into his eyes, glazed over just as I assume mine are from the brandy. I nod, positive that I want this. I want PJ. Even if he isn't Dan. 

He laughs breathily and removes his hand, pulling open a drawer on the table next to his bed, pulling out a small silver packet and a bottle of lube, and ripping the packet open with his teeth.

Everything seems to happen quickly after this, and before I know it, I'm collapsing next to him, pulling the condom off of my shaft and tying it in a knot, tossing it in the garbage on my side of the bed. 

"That was..." He starts to say, panting on my right where he remains lying on his back. I interrupt whatever he was planning on saying next with my lips, laying on my side and leaning over him to press soft kisses on his lips. Eventually, I resort to throwing my arm around his torso and pulling him against me so his back is to my front. His hands rest over mine, letting me know he's okay with the cuddling, and I kiss the back of his neck one more time before falling asleep, uncomfortable with how content I am holding PJ. 


	7. Chapter 7

When I wake up the next morning, I'm in the exact same position as I fell asleep last night, with PJ pressed against me. I blink hard and shift, peeling my limbs from his and yawning. I get up slowly, careful not to wake him. 

I wasn't sure what I was going to be feeling when I woke up last night, but I definitely feel better than whatever it was I'd been expecting. Since it was basically my first "meaningless" night with someone, I was maybe thinking I'd feel guilty the next morning for using him, but since PJ had admitted to doing the same with me over his ex-boyfriend Chris, I feel much better. 

I grab my pants off the floor and dig through them until I find my phone, and then wander around his pretty big apartment until I find the bathroom. 

Upon entering and looking up into the mirror, I gasp. I knew there would be hickeys, but I hadn't expected my neck to look like I'd been strangled or like I'd banged a vampire. There are probably only three on each side of my throat, but they're all big and dark and look more painful than they are. I run my fingers over them gently, now concerned what Dan will think, before I remember that he was with _Troye_ last night. Just the thought puts a bad taste in my mouth, but that also might be from drinking so much last night and not brushing my teeth. I dig through PJ's cabinets until I find his toothbrush and paste and silently apologize before taking care of it, glad to have the mint replace the disgusting taste that had been there before. 

I should go home. I lift my phone to see what time it is, and what the acceptable time would be to wait until I'm sure Troye would be gone by. Upon unlocking it, I see that it's 10:26am and I have 3 missed calls from Dan and 6 texts. Immediately my heart speeds up; is he okay?! I open the texts first, seeing if maybe the problem was resolved and immediately my eyebrows furrow. 

_From: Dan  Time: 2:45am_

_Phil, I need to talk to you, I changed my mind. Please call me back._

_From: Dan Time: 3:30am_

_I'm worried about you, where did you go?_

_From: Dan Time: 4:16am_

_I'm going to assume you're okay... we need to talk._

_From: Dan Time: 8:21am_

_Are you okay? When are you coming home?_

_From: Dan  Time: 9:14am_

_Wake up_

_From: Dan Time: 10:23am_

_Phil, I'm going to stab you with a spoon. Come home._

The last message was sent only three minutes ago. What did he want to talk about? What did he change his mind about!?

I rush back into PJ's room and quickly throw on my jeans and pick up the shirt next to it, working it over my head as fast as possible. PJ is still asleep, and although I don't want to wake him, I feel as though I should just make sure we're okay before I leave so things aren't weird between us. I lay my hand on his bicep, taking a moment to appreciate it before shaking it gently and whispering his name. 

"Hmm... yeah?" his eyes flutter open and he looks up to meet my eyes. "Are you going?"

I nod, running my fingers along is arm instinctively. "Yeah, I think I need to talk to Dan," I respond and he nods, too. 

"Good, I hope it works out for you two," he smiles faintly, sleep still clutching him. I smile back and stand up, about to leave when he grabs my arm. I turn back around and meet his eyes. He pulls me down so we're face to face and presses a kiss onto my lips. I let my hand rest on the side of his face and when I pull away he laughs. 

"I think you should talk to Chris," I say, now crouching in front of him. "He's a lucky guy," I smile, my hand still resting on his face, my thumb running along his cheekbone. He takes my hand in his and kisses my palm. 

All of it is incredibly intimate, but it doesn't feel wrong. It doesn't feel strange to me. We're both here, telling each other to go after the men we love and we aren't jealous of them or uncomfortable kissing platonically. It confuses me, but makes me happy to know that PJ and I can still be friends. 

"I probably will," he admits. "Will you still stop by _Luna's_?" he asks. I nod. "Alright, Phil," he smiles. "I'll see you soon."

I smile back and nod, leaning forward one last time to kiss him before I stand and walk out, waving a little before leaving his room. I jog the rest of the way down to the street, and open my texts to tell Dan that I'm on my way home. 

As I walk home, I pass more strangers than usual, and get a lot of looks from the plethora of hickeys on my neck. I still don't know how I'll explain them to Dan when I get home, but I'm pretty sure they won't be a problem. 

I work up to a jog, too anxious to walk slowly and wait to see what he has to say. I approach our building quickly, only having to walk about four blocks home and when I reach the apartment, I have to fumble with my keys before opening the door. I run up the staircase, incredibly eager and also nervous to hear what Dan has to say. When I start fidgeting with the doorknob, and push the door open slowly, it whips open faster, and suddenly there are a pair of arms wrapped around me, practically knocking the wind out of me. 

I raise mine to wrap around Dan's torso, and sigh a breath of relief into his neck. Then I pull back with a pause. He has dark, purple hickeys going in a straight line from just below his ear, down to the collar of his shirt, where I assume they continue. I detach him from me gently, eyes stuck on his throat. I know I have just as many, if not more, on my neck, but I hadn't imagined the feelings of raging jealousy rising like bile in the back of my mouth. 

I hadn't thought of the red hue that would take over my vision seeing physical evidence of Daniel with another man. His eyebrows are furrowed when he pulls back to meet my eyes until they immediately trail down to my own neck, his jaw instantly falling ajar. 

"Wh- where were you last night?" he asks in an accusatory tone, making his eyes up to mine. 

"I was out," I respond, my tone far more bitter and cold than I, myself, was expecting it to be.

"Out _where_ exactly that you come home the day after with bites from goddamn Edward Cullen!?" he says, this time growing louder with each word. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Dan, does your fucking Troye boy know that he's part _leech?"_ I say, meaning to insult his partner from last night but probably doing no such thing. His eyebrows are still knitted together in an angry expression. 

"Yeah, but obviously that doesn't matter to you since you're more bruise than skin! Are those even all hickeys or are some finger marks from being choked!?" he spits out, folding his arms. 

"And why in the hell do you care, Dan?" I finally ask, taking a step towards him. "Why do you care where I was, who I was with, what's on my neck?"

He seems at a loss for words with this. "I just... I worry about you, that's all," he insists, looking away childishly. 

"Right," I scoff, taking another step forward. "And how was your night with your little underaged boy toy? Was it just as great as you'd imagined?" 

"You know what, _fuck you,_ Phil!" he shouts, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides. "Fuck you, because I didn't even sleep with him. There was foreplay, and sure a little 'neck sucking', but I didn't fuck him! And do you want to know why? Because I was thinking about _you,_ Phil! I was thinking about _you_ and your stupid face, and your stupid personality and your dumbass beautiful eyes, and your stupid laugh and just- just you! And I couldn't go through with banging Troye, because the only reason I was _going to,_ was to get my fucking mind off of you! And it didn't work, so I explained our situation to him, and I told him that I couldn't go through with it because I'm still in l-" he stops, chest rising and falling rapidly and looks away, running a hand through his hair. 

"Still what?" I ask, taking a tentative step forward. "You're still what, Dan?"

He looks back to me, eyes not softened in the slightest. "It doesn't matter anymore, because obviously you feel differently than I do. So... you know what, just forget I said anything in the first place," he laughs menacingly. 

"Dan," I say, shaking my head. "Don't do this."

"Don't do _what,_ Phil!? Don't get upset that you slept with someone else?" he exclaims, tugging at his hair. He gets more enraged by the second and looks conflicted until finally, he approaches me, getting in my face. "Damn it, Phil!" he growls, grabbing the back of my neck and slamming my lips against his. My knees nearly buckle. Everything stops, and I'm not even able to respond to the kiss for its entire duration because I'm so overwhelmed. That throat closing excitement that overwhelms you when you see a puppy or you see someone proposing takes me over, and I'm frozen.

When I still haven't kissed him back, he pulls away, his hand still on my neck. My mouth is hanging ajar just slightly, and he opens his eyes just as I do to search them, looking for my own emotions. I don't know whether my eyes are completely emotionless or so overflowing with love and need that he's feeling drowned, but I'm still recovering from him kissing me that I don't really have control over my body.

"Phil, I-" I don't give him a chance to say anything, because I feel magnetized towards him, and there's no tenderness this time, no cute little butterfly kisses. The only reason the way I'm kissing him is sweet is because I love him so much that I don't have anything else to do with myself. My lips are pressing against his hard, and I'm holding his face in my hands; he moves his hands to grip my wrists, running his thumbs along the sensitive skin on the insides of my arms. I start walking forward, knowing the wall would be coming up soon and his back would slam onto it.

Once it does, he nearly collapses when I part my lips and find his tongue. Whimpers escape his mouth and I'm surprised by how collected I am when he's not only the one who initiated it, but is the one gasping and whining and needy and trapped against the wall, doing everything he can to get closer to me. I, with no doubt about it, love the fact that he feels the same way I do- that he's letting go of my arms and wrapping his arms around my neck. I trail my fingers down his sides, and he doesn't even wait to jump up and wrap his legs around my waist, clutching onto me like his life depends on it, already familiar with me to know what we both want.

"Phil," he says, but I ignore his attempt to remove his lips from mine, and go back to practically ravaging his mouth. I debate going into one of our rooms and decide I can't wait that long. Making sure my grip on Dan is hard, I begin to slide down the wall until I'm kneeling, and turn us so he's laying flat on the wooden floor. He makes a small noise when I pull away from him long enough to shift and settle between his legs. I return to his mouth right away, not ready to even stop to take in a full breath. I've been deprived of kissing Dan for five years, and I plan on making up for every one of those years in the next twenty minutes.

His mouth is greedy against mine and he does new things I wasn't expecting, biting my lip and running his teeth along my tongue. I decide very quickly that I'm fond of his new mannerisms and press flush against him. His hands move everywhere, over my back, my ass, under my shirt, my hair- oh god my hair. He tugs at it hard, and curses when I moan.

"Fuck, Phil," he gasps, sliding his hands up my back, under my shirt. Still in whatever trance I've been in since he first kissed me, I bring my hands to his shirt, and tug harshly, ripping the front open and hearing the buttons scatter on the floor. This itself makes Dan moan, and he quickly rids himself of it, swiftly tugging mine off of me, tongue returning to me only moments after we were parted. My mind isn't functioning properly, and I can think of nothing, nothing other than Dan. I'm loving Dan, breathing Dan, _living_ Dan at this moment with no thought of the outside room.

My hands find the waistline of his trousers and I tug them down, letting him kick them off. He does the same to me, and I start to slow our kisses, involuntarily. Who knows when the next time I'll be able to be surrounded by Dan in a way like this again? I want to savor him and his feeling and his tastes.

Dan, however, has a different idea and makes a noise that could only be described as a growl. He harshly pulls my lips from his; I have to blink a few times, and wait for the spots to leave my vision. I don't have more than a second to recoup, though, because he pushes me up and brings my lips back to his, now happy to take control of the situation. We make our way to a standing position and he starts walking backwards to his own room, kicking the door closed behind him. When we get in, he practically shoves me back onto his bed, then swings one leg over mine, lowering me all the way down in a position that seems incredibly familiar to me.

He drags his tongue over mine hotly, and doesn't slow our kissing for anything, not even for him to sneak in a quick breath. "Fucking-" I gasp out when he grabs my length with no prior warning. He stifles my words and small noises with his lips and teeth, lifting his wrist gracefully in a steady pattern. He stops moving right before I'm about to climax and chuckles darkly when I groan in protest.

"What, you think you're getting off that easily?" he says, moving his lips down to my neck and finally gaining some sweetness as he runs his lips along it and moves down to kiss my collarbones.

I hum contently, then practically drown in my emotions when he comes back up to kiss my mouth, still not completely familiar with kissing him in his new- albeit _amazing-_ style. His tongue is so persistent that I give up trying to keep up with him, and just let him attack my mouth with his.

With a whine of contentment, he shifts, reaching to his left, still not breaking our kiss. I hear a clanging noise to my right and run my hands along his thighs lightly and taking advantage of his momentary distraction to take control of his lips. He gasps, but keeps rustling to his side, finally sighing in relief when he achieves whatever he was searching for. He pulls away briefly and lifts his hand to show me what he'd been digging into his nightstand for. We're both panting relentlessly and upon seeing the condoms and lube in his hand I can practically feel my gaze on him darkening.

He smirks and raises his eyebrows like the cheesy little shit he is, squeaking when I get a grip on his back and flip him so I'm once again hovering above him. He groans, a smile still ghosting his features as I lower myself, running my lips down his chest and torso until I finally reach the waistband of his boxers, and slip it between my teeth. He gasps, dropping both items he'd worked so hard to find and threads his fingers through my hair, pulling it while I work the boxers over his erection, then use my hands to pull them the rest of the way down, looking up to meet his lust-filled eyes. I wink and start sliding my mouth over him, groaning when he pulls my hair again.

I start bobbing my head over his shaft and revel in the little noises he makes, memorizing what it's like to hear them, and feel his hands, his whole body solid beneath me. I let my teeth just barely graze his head and he curses, pushing my hair back from my forehead.

"Phil- baby, I'm gonna-"

I freeze, removing my head entirely and earning a gasp and a pair of wide eyes looking down at me in disbelief. "What?" I ask, tilting my head to the side innocently. "You think you're getting off that ea-" he practically drags my face back up to meet his and cuts me off less than kindly, driven by an increasing amount of desire and need.

Being the horny little fucker that Dan is, he starts pushing my own boxers off with his hands, letting them rest on my arse for a moment before letting me kick them the rest of the way off. He then grabs ahold of my hips again and pushes them down so our lengths grind against each other. Just as I gasp, he moans, chuckling breathily against my lips. He removes his hands from my hips, probably just expecting me to keep grinding against him- which I obviously do- and grabs the condom. I start to pull away from his mouth so I can apply it, but he wraps his arms around my back, leaning up to meet my mouth, letting his tongue plunge straight inside right away. He tears it open behind my back and guides them back around to find my shaft. He waits til I pull away from one of my thrusts and slides it down, making me breathe harder at the feel of his hand on me.

Although I assume the condom is already pretty lubey as is, he applies some on his hand, then slicks it over me, never taking his hot mouth off of mine. He stops now, letting his head fall back on the bed and looks into my eyes. I don't know where he wiped his hand off, but when he brings it up to the side of my face it's dry.

"Dan," I begin to say, unsure of what's going to come out of my mouth next. "I love you." He gasps as I slide into him, slowly, for fear of hurting him. His eyes flutter shut and he puts his arms under mine, reaching them up to grasp my shoulders around my back. He pulls his hips back, notifying me that it's okay if I move, so I thrust in and out again, developing a steady rhythm. "So much," I say, panting as I hold myself up above him on my forearms. He moans, eyes still closed, squeezing my shoulders hard. "I have since the first day I-" I gasp, "-fucking met you."

He groans as I swivel my hips on my next thrust, and I almost let go of my weight as spots fill my vision. "I always will," I promise, and he digs his nails into my shoulders this time, causing a perfect combination of pain and pleasure to fill me.

"Oh- god!" he gasps when I lower my hand to stroke his shaft in time with my thrusts and starts dragging his hands down my back, nails still digging in.

"I don't care- whether you love me back.... or you never- ever want to talk... to me again after tonight," I say in speech broken by my ecstasy. "I'll never stop loving you- Dan." His moans grow louder and more broken until I lower my mouth to his, and he brings his hands back up to my hair, a final groan leaving both of our mouths as I finally come, him not long after. I kiss him shortly once more, and he hums contently, moaning a little when I pull out. I can barely see straight as I remove the condom and tie it, tossing it into a bin a little ways to my left. I fall onto my stinging back next to him, panting hard and watching his chest rise and fall.

After what feels like hours of laying there, fully sated, he looks sideways at me, eyes almost fully glazed over. "I love you, too," he confesses, flipping over onto his side and running his fingers softly along my stomach. "I love you more than anything," he promises, reaching up to kiss my sweetly. I raise my hand to his hair, and this kiss is more tender and soft than anything we'd experienced only a few short moments before. When our lips part, our tongues dance romantically, and everything is light and fluffy when we pull away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok you savage beasts you got what you wished for.   
> pls comment bc i love constructive criticism (not as much as i love praises but still)  
> i hope you enjoyed your chapterly filling of smutty smut smut smut.   
> love you all


	8. Chapter 8

Dan and I stay put for a long while, not talking to one another, too indulged in our own thoughts to say a word. I trace shapes over his chest and stomach with my fingers, and he plays with my hair as a means of assuring one another that we're still here. We know what we just did, and we don't regret it. I'm not sure how long we lie there, completely silent yet comfortable. Eventually, though, Dan's stomach makes a horrid, grumbling noise right under my fingertips and my head shoots up in amusement to meet his eyes. 

The moment we make eye contact, the both of us burst out laughing and I press a kiss to his chest before sitting up. "We should have something to eat," I say, figuring it's probably around noon already and I haven't had anything to eat all day long. 

He sits up as well, nodding, and raises a hand to my neck, running his fingers over it. I watch him intently until he looks up to meet my eyes. "I never want to see hickeys from anyone but me on your neck again," is his only explanation. 

I only raise my eyebrows in response and shrug. "Fine with me," I smile, leaning forward to kiss him. His hand remains on my neck as his lips press firmly against mine, feeling right in every way imaginable. He starts leaning back, pulling me with him until his stomach makes the noise again. He huffs when he pulls away, but I only laugh, "It seems your belly has spoken." I stand up, pulling on my boxers, and turning around to see Dan already wearing a pair of mesh shorts. 

"My stomach is stupid," he says before turning around and walking out of the room, into the kitchen. I smile, unable to keep the stupid curve of my lip from my face just knowing that I was able to hold Dan again. I follow him quickly, wanting to take advantage of every opportunity I have to get my hands on him, and find that he's right outside the door, waiting to scare me. I yelp, jumping backwards before shouting, "Daniel!" He laughs, taking hold of my wrists and pulling me towards him to plant his lips on mine. Once I reach him, his hands find their way to either side of my face. I don't protest, not in the slightest, as I run my fingers down his sides and squeeze his bum once I get there. 

"Watch it," he mumbles against my lips, starting to smile. He pulls away now, letting go of me altogether and turning around to walk into the kitchen. "What do you wanna eat?" I shrug, hopping up to take a seat on the island in the center of the room and watch him walk around. "I could make mac n cheese or something," he offers with a smirk. "Or I could heat up that soup we had last week," I make a face and he sighs. "Do you want me to microwave some popcorn or something instead?"

"Ooh, yeah, do that!" I cheer him on immediately, liking that idea very much. He scoffs and rolls his eyes at me, but starts rummaging through the cabinets to find some. "What time is it?" I ask, trying to look around his form and see the electronic clock built into the oven. _2:17pm._ How long had we been lying there?

Dan pulled one of the last bags from the box of popcorn, and threw it into the microwave for three minutes. "So..." he said, rocking back on his heels. "What do you wanna do in the meantime?"

I roll my eyes at his immaturity, but reach for him to pull him to me, immediately placing my hand on the back of his neck. I don't kiss him yet, just looking into his eyes and thinking about him. "You're an idiot," I say softly, and he gasps in mock offence. I laugh in return and pull his face up to meet me. Even though it's been years since I've kissed Dan, the sensation is so familiar that it's as though no time passed. He runs his fingers up my thighs gently, and brings his arms around to my back, tugging me to the edge of the counter so our chests are touching. 

Whoever said that high school relationships don't matter was obviously not having the right kind of relationship, because here and now with Dan is all that matters to me. He's the only other person in the world to be with me right now, even though less than twelve hours ago I'd been with PJ. 

I gasp, cutting off from our kiss. 

_PJ._

"What?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

I shake my head, laughing a little uncomfortably. 

I'd forgotten about PJ. 

But it's not as though last night meant anything, and he knows that. PJ was doing the same thing; he was trying to get over a guy, just like I had been last night. However, I couldn't quite shake the feeling of guilt mixed with an imminent wrongness, feeling intimate with Dan not even a day after being with PJ. 

"What's the matter?" he asks, bringing his hands back to rest on my thighs. 

"I just..." I begin, not sure if I should tell him my thoughts. I don't want to lie to Dan, but I don't know if me talking about my night with PJ will upset him and make him change his mind as to whether or not he wants to be together. He furrows his eyebrows and looks into my eyes, tilting his head to the side. I take a deep breath and finally just give in, "I just feel bad that... last night I had a random hookup because I was mad at you and now I'm finally here with you, and you know that I love you and I want to be with you but... I don't know I feel guilty."

He stays silent for a moment, looking down from my eyes to my lips. Just as he opens his mouth to reply, the microwave starts beeping and he sighs, stepping away from me to retrieve the popcorn. Without a word, he empties the bag into a large bowl and starts walking into the living room. 

"Dan?" I ask, jumping off of the island to follow him. "Dan," I repeat when he says nothing and just keeps walking. When I get into the room, he's already seated on the couch, and fumbling with the remote to turn something on, the popcorn resting on the coffee table. "Hey," I say, sitting next to him. "Say something."

With an exasperated noise, he turns to me and replies finally, "What do you want me to say, Phil? Obviously I don't like the fact that you slept with someone else, but we weren't together then. I don't even know if we're together now! You didn't have any reason _not_ to sleep with them, just like I didn't have a reason not to sleep with Troye. Neither of us had any commitment toward the other last night, so there's no reason for me to be mad about it, okay?" he says, sighing. He reaches up to brush his fingers through my hair and looks up at me. "All I know is right now, I love you. I've always loved you, and it doesn't matter to me what you did last night, or six months ago or..." he pauses, letting his thumb brush over my lips, speaking quieter now, "Or even five years ago. Because right now I love you."

I remain speechless, because I honestly don't know how to reply to him. The fact that he's just dismissing every past, terrible thing that I've done to him leaves me without words. All I can do is lean forward to kiss him, harder than intended, but still tenderly. He moves his hand around to grasp the back of my neck and take a breath in. He kisses back right after, and I move forward so I'm hovering over his frame, legs parted on either side of his hips. I sit up, breaking our kiss and repeat, "I love you, too." 

He smiles, sitting up to peck me once, and then altogether shoving me off of him, and propping his legs up on my lap, leaning into the couch. "Let's watch _Friends."_   

***

I pry open my eyes to a pitch black room and a warm body covering mine, a head propped into the crook of my neck. I sigh contently, snuggling back down into the couch and sliding my fingers into Dan's hair, stroking through it absentmindedly while he sleeps. 

I don't know how much time passes before he finally wakes up, or moves, but when he does, he immediately sits up, kneeling between my legs and looking around, dazed and tired like a puppy. I chuckle at how pure the sight is, seeing him so confused and vulnerable at the same time. 

"Good morning," he says through a yawn. 

"Morning seems to be an incorrect term," I reply, a smile playing at my lips. I twist awkwardly to reach around on the table for my phone, and turn it towards me to see the time reading 2:37 am. We literally just had sex and slept all day long. "Seeing as it's the middle of the night," I add, chuckling. 

He groans, cuddling closer to me and muttering into my side, "What do you wanna do?"

"Wanna go for a walk?" I suggest. 

He scoffs, sitting up to face me, "You want to go for a walk at 2am in London? Are you _trying_ to get murdered?" 

I shrug, "I'm sure we'll be fine, Dan, don't be so paranoid."

I receive an eyeroll and he finally says, "It's not paranoia, dear Phil, it is completely justified fear of all the psychopaths and serial killers wandering around the streets in the darkness."

"I'll protect you, Dan," I joke, and he laughs, both of us knowing for a fact that I'm both too kind to fend someone off and far too tense in certain situations to make a move. 

"You know what, Phil? If you _really_ want to go for a walk, we can," he concedes, albeit reluctantly, and starts to climb off of me. I stop him quickly by grabbing his biceps. He turns his head to meet my eyes and raises an eyebrow. 

"I mean... we don't have to go right this second," I say, shrugging. "Y'know, but whatever."

He shakes his head, "Phil, you horny fucker!" 

"I'm not horny! I just have five years of kissing you to make up for, okay, _Daniel?_ We don't have to makeout, it was just an idea," I shrug, moving my hands to push on his chest and shove him off my lap. He lets me, and when he's finally standing, I slide around him and start walking back to my room to put more clothes on. Just before I reach the door frame, there's an arm sneaking around my waist and spinning me around. 

"You're lucky I'm missing out on those kisses, too," Dan says just before planting his lips on mine. What I've found in the past few hours is that every kiss I receive from him is new and exciting, whether it's hot and passionate or sweet and light. This one, however doesn't last long as he flicks the light on behind my back and pushes me into my room, saying, "Put some damn clothes on."

I laugh and turn around to make my way to my dresser when I hear a gasp, followed by guilty laughter. I spin back around to see Dan covering his mouth and a guilty look across his face. "What?" I ask. 

"Oh my god," he chuckles, approaching me and touching my back. I wince. "I'm so sorry!"

I make my way to the black mirror in the corner of my room and turn around to get a look at my pale back, my jaw dropping when I see dark cuts down the length of my back. "Dan!" I scold, turning back to see him looking remorseful. "Do you know how tacky those look?"

He scoffs, "Oh yeah, the cuts are just as tacky as the hickeys all over your neck."

"Damn it," I sigh. "Well, I guess I'll put a high collared shirt on for work," I shrug. "Go get changed."

"I'm sorry, Phil," he says, a small pout on his lips. I roll my eyes and pull him by the chin to kiss me. When I pull back he's grinning and he says, "Fine," before turning around and practically skipping back to his room. 

Finally, five short minutes later, we're both ready to head out the door, and I grow slightly wary of the midnight hour and the heavy darkness that will soon be around us. It's not that I'm afraid of the dark, but we make our way down the steps and outside anyways, and I take his hand as we step out. 

Once my initial sense of panic and anxiety pass through our walk, I take a moment to really observe the houses and buildings that are pitch black and silent under the moonlight. It's more peaceful than I'd expected, although I don't quite know how. 

There's not much to say on the status of the street lamps or the few wanderers stumbling around drunkenly over the pavement, but the entire aura of the world is quiet and calm. I sigh contently, and rest my head on Dan's shoulder briefly, just long enough for him to kiss the top of my head. 

"I love you," I tell him quietly, and he smiles, glancing at my lips. 

"And I love you," he replies, leaning forward to kiss them softly. I kiss him back, lifting my hand to his hair for the brief few moments it lasts, then pull away and keep walking. 

We keep walking in a comfortable silence for the next block or two, sometimes nudging each other softly with our shoulders, sometimes kicking small pebbles. Eventually, though, I quickly realize that I've taken us close to _Luna's_ without realizing it, and Dan quickly remembers the same thing. 

"Hey, don't you like that place?" he asks, pointing the the sign on the small building. "PJ works there, right? The one you so kindly asked me not to bang?" he smiles and I laugh. 

"Yeah... yeah he does," I respond distractedly. 

"Well, let's go say hi!" he suggests, and starts to pull me along behind him, but I plant my feet.

"No! No, let's just... keep walking or... go back home," I counter, attempting to pull him back to me. 

"What? Why?"

I know he's just trying to be nice and be friendly to those I consider _my_ friends, but the truth is, I'd probably feel guilty walking in on PJ casually with Dan. We both agreed that last night didn't mean anything, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be awkward. 

"I just... I don't know," I sigh, not really wanting to tell him that PJ is the one I slept with. 

"Come on, we can just stop in, say hi and pop right out," he offers, rubbing my arms. "Yeah?"

I take a moment to breathe deeply before I finally concede, "Yeah." Like I said, we agreed we were still friends and it didn't mean anything, so he shouldn't be awkward, just like I shouldn't be awkward. 

But as Dan pushes open the door and the little bell on the top rings, I quickly realize that I'm wrong and the whole situation will be incredibly uncomfortable. 

Upon entering the cafe, I see PJ propped up on the counter, a man settled between his legs whom I vaguely suspect is named Chris. He pulls away when he hears the door open, looking petrified that a customer walked in on them, then relaxing when he sees me, then returning to the horror in his eyes, looking from Dan to Chris, to me then back to Chris, and finally settling on me.

"Uh... hey Peej," I greet, lifting the hand that isn't holding Dan's to give a little wave. 

"Um," he says, gently pushing Chris away to hop down from the counter. "Hi."

I wonder briefly why he didn't say my name, but quickly realize it when Chris's head turns to the side upon seeing my gaze locked with his boyfriend's. 

"Phil?" he questions, looking to PJ for confirmation. 

"Uh...." he says, obviously stalling. 

"Yeah, I'm Phil," I concede, swallowing before offering a soft smile and holding out my hand. "It's nice to finally me-"

"Phil that you _slept_ with last night?"

"Um... yeah?" PJ says while Dan wrenches his hand from mine to look at me and says, "Excuse me!?"

"Why is he coming into your little shop if you said what you two did doesn't matter!?" Chris yells, and my mouth hangs open a little looking at Dan. 

"Oh so you instruct me _blatantly_ not to sleep with your friend so your friendship doesn't get ruined, but then you go and do it anyways? Right before coming home and sleeping with _me_ not even twelve hours later?!" Dan bursts. 

"Because it _didn't_ mean anything-" 

"Dan, you said it was fine because what I did before us didn't matter-"

"If it didn't mean anything he wouldn't be here-"

"I didn't know it was the _one_ person you'd be seeing every single day from now on! I thought it was some random, drunk hookup you had where you wouldn't see the other person _ever_ again!" Dan shouts, and I wince. 

"No, PJ, no," Chris says, raising a hand to keep him from saying anything. "This is exactly why I left in the first place. Because I obviously can't trust you. Maybe you weren't lying saying you were at work all the time, but if _he's_ there," he points at me, "then it doesn't matter if it was the truth. This is- we're done. For real this time," he says, laughing without a trace of malice and shoving past Dan and I to leave. 

PJ's face crumples and I look to Dan, unsure of what to do. His angry and hurt face doesn't soften in the slightest, but he gestures to PJ, obviously wanting me to go comfort him. I oblige, and walk over to hug him, patting his back as he clutches me, sobbing into my chest. 

When I turn my head to look back at Dan, he's gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait ahhh


	9. Chapter 9

After comforting PJ for what feels like hours, I practically bolt from the cafe, praying that Dan will still be home when I get there. It's almost 6 in the morning now, so I wouldn't be surprised if he simply arrived and fell asleep right away.

Nevertheless, by the time I stumble awkwardly up the stairs in my brazen attempt to run, I can't help but hope he's sitting in the living room, watching _Friends,_ just as we had been before falling asleep, the entire quarrel set behind us. I unlock the door to our flat quickly and close it carefully behind me, just in case he is sleeping. I lock it absentmindedly behind me and make my way into the living room, finding it empty. The most probable place he'll have camped in will be his room, so when I find it empty, my eyebrows furrow.

I sigh and walk the short distance to my room, dragging my fingers along the wall before stopping in my tracks. "What are you doing in here?" I ask, finding him sitting on my bed, his phone in his hand. Realizing that it sounds more accusatory than simply surprised, I add, "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, locking the phone and tossing it onto the bed beside him. "No, you're not," he sighs deeply, looking up to meet my eyes.

"I am, Dan, really," I assure, talking a few tentative steps forward to stand between his legs. He turns his head up to gaze at me, eyes wide and innocent. "I feel like a dick for sleeping with PJ. And that wasn't really my initial plan, I promise, it just sort of... happened."

"Look, Phil, I said it before and I'll say it again. When you slept with him, we had no sort of obligation to one another. We've barely had obligation to each other for 18 hours," he chuckles, raising his hands to stroke my arms comfortingly. "It just pissed me off that you put these restrictions on me not to sleep with him, because it would ruin your friendship, then you went off and did it anyways."

"Dan-"

"I had no right to be that pissed. I'm sorry," he says, moving his hands to run along the fabric covering my torso.

"It's okay," I murmur in return, mesmerized by the movements of his fingers. He curls them around the cloth and tugs it forward, causing me to lose my balance. I catch myself on my hands behind him, positioned so I'm lingering over his frame, now laying back on my bed. I laugh at his not-so-subtle way of making a move. However, being the weak-willed, smitten creature that I am, I can't help but lean forward and press my lips softly against his. He kisses back immediately, a smile still shaping his perfect mouth.

"You do know you thoroughly ruined his relationship with his boyfriend, though," he says, pulling his head back.

"Wow, Dan you're really good at this whole pillow talk thing," I reply, fondly trailing my lips down his neck.

"Mm..." he hums, running his fingers through my hair. "I'm just saying, I feel kind of bad for making us go into the cafe."

I shrug, lifting myself off of him on my hands to meet his eyes. "Dan, you really didn't do anything wrong. Peej said they've been on and off for a while. He's not giving Chris what he needs and all that. We were probably just the tip of the iceberg. Please, just... don't dwell on it, alright?" I ask, eyebrows furrowed.

A long moment of indecisiveness strays on his face, but eventually it smooths, and he nods. "Alright, just... just make sure you find out what's going on with them. I don't know why, I just feel kind of involved now."

I nod once in agreement, peck one more kiss onto his mouth, then push myself up to a standing position, holding my hand out to help him up. He takes it somewhat reluctantly and stands so we're chest to chest, raising a single eyebrow suggestively. I roll my eyes and step back. "We should probably slow down, babe," I say, although every fibre of my being wants to push him back on the bed and attack him.

"Excuse me? I have _five years_ worth of missing you to make up for. We aren't slowing down for a long time," he assures, a smirk playing on his face before he wraps his arms around my neck and kisses me again.

I sigh into his kiss, lifting my hands to grip his biceps and pull them tighter around me, making our bodies flush. He parts his lips, pushing his tongue onto mine and moaning.

***

I wake up alone, sated and groggy all at the same time and push the blankets from my chest. I swallow a yawn and stretch my aching limbs; being this crowded and cramped for almost two whole days has stiffened my joints. 

Finally after taking a few deep breaths, I force myself into a standing position and grab my phone from the nightstand where I must have tossed it last night. 

My mind is reeling as I replay everything that has happened in the past fort-eight hours. I can hardly believe most of it. Dan and I had admitted our feelings toward one another. We _finally_ did it. After years and years of heartbreak for both of us and the seemingly inability to confess any sort of attraction or emotion other than two inebriated and taxing nights, I'm left with contradicting emotions. I can't tell if I'm completely overwhelmed or utterly empty. 

I can't identify if this raw, aching sensation is from being so surrounded by Dan and his emotions or if it's from pouring so much of myself and my pent up feelings out to the point where I have practically nothing left to give. The most confusing part of these options, of course, is the fact that it's all I can do not to run to Dan now and kiss him senseless. Both choices leave me with something to figure out about myself, something I should do on my own, and yet the alternative of never leaving Dan's side, of just laying in bed with him or kissing him or holding him is what I'd prefer to do every minute of every hour of every day. 

I dismiss my hesitation, as it isn't even quite that; it's more awe. I'm just so surprised and happy and utterly bursting with feelings that I needed to reflect for a moment. Reflect on myself, my past, my choices, and reflect on Dan. 

Dan.

The only human alive who's made me feel so weak at the knees, so cheerful and relieved that I could burst into tears. The only person with the ability to change my mood from angry to joyous with a mere touch of his hand. Relief is definitely a key emotion in my mind and chest. I'm so relieved. Relieved that he's giving me another chance, after those years of disappointment and anger and despair. 

I sigh and turn my phone on, wincing at the light the screen casts on my adjusted eyes. It's still quite dark in my bedroom. It's 8:48am. Sadly, it's already Monday, which means it's my first day of work. 

I'll have to most likely spend the day with PJ, which will be emotionally taxing and confusing. I don't have feelings for PJ, that's a definite, but I do care about him. We are friends- or we were at least, before. Hopefully he and Chris have figured themselves out; hopefully everything between the two of them is better. 

"Oh, Phil, good, you're up!" I'm wrenched from my inner monologue by Dan's voice, and my head snaps up to meet his gaze. "I made breakfast," he explains with a grin. 

"Aw, Dan," is what comes out of my mouth as I follow him down the hall to the kitchen. "It smells great," I say truthfully. The scent of what I hope are pancakes and chocolate invades my nostrils and I sigh deeply. 

"Well it better, I've been slaving over it all morning," he drawls dramatically, setting a plate decorated with a mint leaf garnish in front of me. 

"Wow, babe, you were thorough," I snort; Dan's always had a touch for theatrics. "Would you be offended if I didn't take a picture first?" I ask, knowing he probably expects me to gush about it on Instagram. 

He scoffs, "Do you think I'm so shallow, Phil!? Do I look like someone who would be upset simply because you didn't admire the beautiful meal I prepared for you over the course of 20 minutes? How dare you accuse me of such-"

"Me thinks you doth protest too much, dear," I laugh, picking up my fork to cut the corner of the maple syrup-soaked pancake into a prestigious triangle before raising it to my mouth, looking up to find Dan's eager eyes watching intensely from where he leans against the kitchen island. "Did you poison it or something?"

"Eat it, you idiot," he laughs, throwing a stray dish rag at me. I dodge it easily with a chuckle, and finally take the food into my mouth, closing my eyes and making a low, overly dramatic guttural moan around it, before I even have the chance to taste it. "I hate you so much," he shakes his head when I finally open my eyes, crossing his arms. I laugh around the food and finally start chewing. 

It is, in all honesty, quite good, but his cocky expression doesn't fool me. I know for a fact he used a pancake mix, and the extent of his cooking was adding an egg and some oil to the dry batter and throwing it into a hot pan. 

"It's good, I'll give you that," I admit, shrugging lightly. 

"Well finish up quick, it's your first day of work," he says, letting his arms drop back to his sides and crossing the kitchen to lean down and give me a sticky, syrupy kiss. He pulls away first, barely giving me time to respond. I attempt to pull him back with my hands on his hips, but he shimmies free from my grasp.

"Hey- I-" 

"Keep it in your pants, Lester," he says, swiping a dish towel from the back of one of the kitchen chairs and snapping me with it. 

"Ow!" I gasp, reaching out to snatch it from him. 

"Sit down and eat the shit I made for you ungrateful spork!" he laughs, jumping back when I find another towel and roll it to snap him with it. 

He hits me with his towel again, stinging my thigh sharply, and I double over, clutching my leg. "Okay- truce, truce, for the love of god!" I say lifting my hands and waving my white towel in surrender. 

"Fine," he concedes, tossing the towel back onto the table and turning around to exit, probably returning to his room.

I scoff, "You aren't gonna kiss me to seal the deal?"

His response is a middle finger as he turns the corner, and I chuckle, finishing my food quickly and tossing the empty plate into the sink. I stumble back to my room to get dressed, unsure of how formal I should dress. I decide on a pair of black trousers that fit a little snug, and a blue button up shirt with a black design scattered across it along with a thin black tie. I shake my hair out haphazardly and glance up into my mirror, slipping into a pair of black sneakers, settling for a professional/casual look. 

When I leave my room to brush my teeth in the bathroom, Dan is already doing so in front of the mirror, glancing over at me and wiggling his eyebrows as the frothy paste drips from his mouth. I snort and he grins around the foam. 

I reach around him to gather my toothbrush and toothpaste, yelping a little when he smacks my arse. "Dan!" I scold, and he simply shrugs and bends over the sink to spit and rinse his mouth. I roll my eyes and start brushing, meeting his mischievous eyes in the mirror. I panic for a moment, unsure of what he plans on doing or saying. He simply takes my hips in his hands, standing behind me and leans down to kiss my already bruised neck. I'll have to put some cover-up on it, knowing we have some in the medicine cabinet. 

A shiver runs down my back under his lips, and I pause in the midst of my brushing when he slides his palms around to my stomach and chest, kissing up under my jaw. I bend over to spit, and gasp in surprise when Dan rolls his hips into mine. I quickly rinse my mouth, wiping it with the towel laying across the edge of the sink. I turn around fast putting my right forearm against Dan's chest and pushing him up against the wall. 

He raises an eyebrow and smirks, "Is that how it is, Lester?"

I glance down at his lips and lean forward, pushing mine against them and using all of the self-control I can muster to pull away after only a moment. I walk away then, skirting past him and going into my my room to collect the rest of my things. I pick up my phone to check just how much time I have left before I have to leave. I have to be into work at 10:30 and it's only 9:26. I grin at the screen before tossing it back onto my bed. 

"You're just gonna leave me hanging like that, then?" Dan asks, and when I turn back around, he's leaning against my doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. 

"Only giving what I get, Daniel," I shrug, picking up my satchel and stuffing my phone into it, along with a stray sketchbook filled with designs and anything else light enough to fit that could be remotely useful. When I get to the door, I lean in a little closer to Dan and whisper, "Deal with it."

He simply lifts his hands and shoves my chest hard, pushing me up against the wall and kissing me roughly. I drop my satchel and my breath catches, and I breathe out in a moan stifled by his lips. I raise my hands to hold his jaw, letting my lips part to welcome his tongue into my mouth, greeting it with my own. 

He chuckles lowly and slides his hands around to my back and down to squeeze my arse. A shudder wracks my body, and I practically melt between his warm body and the cold wall behind me. Finally growing used to being able to hold and kiss Dan again, I run my fingers up into his hair and pull his head back to kiss his neck where the hickeys are fading enough that you can tell a new one from the old ones. I suck harshly on his skin, running it between my teeth and making him gasp. 

Just because love bites will look unprofessional on me doesn't mean I can't put them on Dan, who works from home. His fingers dig into my hips now, until he brings one around to palm at my growing hard-on through my trousers. In any other instance I would probably be worried about getting my pants dirty, but all rational thoughts flee my mind with his hands on me. Contented after leaving several dark, mouth shaped bruises on his neck, I move my mouth back to his, sighing into the kiss. His tongue pushes against mine without hesitation this time, and he fumbles to unzip my pants and get his fingers around my length. 

My breath catches, and I don't bother with dropping his pants, simply getting my hands down the front of his waistband and running my thumb over his head. Our kisses grow sloppy, turning more into mouths sliding and panting minty breath into each other instead as our hands pump over each other's shafts. 

I feel myself reaching my climax far faster than I'd care to admit, but Dan doesn't seem to mind, simply working his hand over me faster. I choke out a groan, met with a whimper in response from him as I follow his motions, both of us spilling over at relatively the same time. 

Dan catches most of my come in his hand, and I try to do the same with his, panting through my release. I can tell he's careful not to get any on my clothes, resulting in him doing a much better job than me. He doesn't care, though, or doesn't seem to when he leaves me to sag against the wall, retreating into the bathroom. He tosses me a towel, and I wipe my hands, grateful that the towel was already semi-damp enough to clean my hand. 

He comes back around the corner in only a few seconds, once I've finally been able to catch my breath, and he's stripped himself of his pajama bottoms. He wears a wolfish grin, and I stand up straighter now, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him to me in a soft kiss. 

He reaches down and fixes my pants, zipping them in one swift motion, and hitting my crotch without any force, laughing at my flinch. "Let's clean your neck up," he says, leaning forward to press another short kiss to my mouth. I trail after him into the bathroom and sit on the lid of the toilet when he pushes me down onto it. 

He blends the concealer into my neck faster than I would have been able to and sets it carefully with a powder I didn't know we had, careful not to let it fall onto my dark shirt. "Alright, babe, ready for your first day?" he asks, sliding onto my lap and straddling my hips. 

"I am now," I reply. "Although now I don't want to leave."

"Shut up with that sappy shit," he says, placing a hand on the side of my face and kissing me thoroughly. My hands find his hips and I start to move them so he grinds into me, but he stands up when I try. "You have to leave."

I shake my head, trying to pull him back to me. "I have a little time still-"

"You wanna be early on your first day," he says, starting to walk out of the bathroom. With a groan of resignation, I finally stand and follow him, watching his arse as he bends down to pick up my bag and walks to the door, swiping a travel mug from the kitchen on the way. 

I meet him at the door and he opens it, shoving both the satchel and the mug into my hands. He leans forward and kisses me, barely giving me a touch of his tongue before he pulls away. "You know, we still have time for a quickie if we wa-"

"Leave," he says, pointing to the stairs. I stick my lip out a little and he rolls his eyes, but leans forward to kiss me properly this time, holding my face in his hands and massaging his tongue onto mine. I moan a little in relief before he pulls back again. He pushes against my chest gently when I lean forward for more, and this time I stand back. "Have a good day," he says, leaning against the doorframe and watching me retreat down the steps. When I stop near the bottom to look up and wink at him he grins softly and adds, "I love you."


	10. Chapter 10

I walk tentatively into the building, recognizing the bland color scheme and glancing at the abundance of people walking around the lobby. I turn shortly to the receptionist, a different one this time. 

She has a soft, dark face and her hair cascades down her shoulders in big brick red waves. She looks up to meet my eyes, and I'm taken aback by their silver glow. She can't be older than 30. "Good morning! How can I help you?" she asks, a genuine welcoming tone to her voice. 

Involuntarily, as a response to her authenticity I suspect, a smile curls my lips upwards and I reply, "My name is Phil Lester, it's my first day to-"

"Oh my goodness, you're Phil!" she gasps, a manicured hand flying to her chest, causing her bracelets to clank with her necklace. She stands quickly, reaching a hand out over the desk. I take it quickly. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Grant hasn't shut up about you since your interview! And Peej hasn't been much better," she chuckles, rolling her mesmerizing eyes. "But neither of them told me you were so cute," she winks playfully and I laugh. 

"It's always better to surprise people," I shrug, and she laughs again. 

"Oh, you're a gem," she says, sighing deeply with a smile still on her face. "Well I'm not supposed to do this, but I'll walk you up to Grant's office, sweetheart, and we'll see where it goes from there," she sighs, placing a _Be Back Soon_ sign down on the top of the desk and calling, "I'm going on break, Jason!" 

A man-Jason- across the room lifts his hand with a thumbs up and winks. "Alright, dollface, well if you wanna take a different break when you get back, let me know!"

She rolls her eyes and skirts around the edge of the white desk, slipping her arm through mine and making her way to the lift. I warm to her immediately, moved by her sweet display of friendship so early in meeting me. "Oh! By the way, my name is Samantha, but you can call me Sammi," she says, pressing the button for the third floor and swaying to whatever silent beat is playing in her head. "You're going to be working in design, right?" she asks, twisting her head to meet my eyes. 

I nod eagerly, shifting my free arm to adjust the bag on my shoulder, "Yeah, I'm excited to see how it goes."

She exhales excitedly and places her opposite hand on my arm, "I've always _adored_ the minds of people in design, although most of our designers are pricks, I think it's incredible that your brain has the ability to come up with something so original and creative!" She squeals lightly just as the lift dings to signal our floor. 

"Well that's a nice way to look at it," I say, shrugging slightly. "I mostly just see it as cruel and unusual punishment for spending so much on university."

She barks out a laugh, bringing her hand to her chest again and skipping a little. Her energy creates a bubbly feeling in my throat and I can't help but laugh. "Oh, that's just too real," she sighs. "If you don't mind, I might stick with you for the day. I'll make Jason cover my shift since he doesn't do anything all day anyways."

I nod, grinning, "I don't mind at all! It'll be nice to get to know someone other than PJ and Mr. Gilligan."

"Oh, dear, _Mister_ Gilligan, you sound so formal," she giggles, but waves her hand dismissively. "Although I suppose you've known him for so long, someone as ancient as him should be addressed formally." I smirk as we approach room 64, and she doesn't bother knocking, simply barging in and almost shouting, "Grant, if I walk in on you banging another secretary, I will personally chop off your testes and hang them on my rear view mirr- oh, good," she says, slipping her arm from mine and walking towards Mr. Gilligan, where he sits in his large leather chair, his head lifting at the sudden intrusion. 

My jaw almost drops when Sammi places a hand on the back of his chair and leans down, pressing her lips to his. Feeling as though I'm invading their personal moment, I avert my eyes, but I feel that my eyebrows are practically at my hairline. Mr. Gilligan has to be at least 40, and she looks so much younger that it was that last thing I was expecting for her to kiss him. 

I drag my eyes back to them when I hear her infectious laughter, and see my new boss also smiling widely. "Oh, I just love seeing their expressions!" she gasps through her giggles, a hand resting on his shoulder. 

I open my mouth to respond with something witty, but nothing comes out other than an amused laugh. "It's nice to see you again, Phil," he comments, shifting as Sammi flops down on his lap, watching me walk forward and settle into the chair across his desk at his beckoning. "How are you doing?" he asks. 

I grin, "I'm great, really excited to start today!"

"I always love seeing them before they're broken in," Samantha comments, lifting her hand to twine her fingers into the hair at the back of Mr. Gilligan's head.

He shakes his head, "No, Phillip here is different. He's enthusiastic about everything he does, no matter how long he's been doing it or how much he hates it. That's what makes this one so special." Sammi simply smiles, looking at him adoringly. "Well I'm sure Samantha has already decided she won't be doing much work today, so I suppose she'll be the one to show you around, introduce you to everyone, share with you your duties and the like," he looks to her for confirmation and she nods once, proud of how well he apparently knows her.

"On that note, we should probably get goin' so you can get to the meeting later today," she claps standing up and pecking Mr. Gilligan quickly on the cheek, squealing when he smacks her on the arse. My eyebrows furrow in amusement when she smacks his chest, escaping his reach before he can return the favor. I laugh, already growing to adore their relationship. She holds her arm out to me as I stand, and I link mine through it hesitantly, worried that it could possibly be compromising to the two of them. They scoff in unison and she says, "Don't worry about him, even if we couldn't smell the gay on you from a mile away, he knows he's got nothin' to worry about."

I laugh as Mr. Gilligan does and she leads me out without so much as a look over her shoulder. Once in the hallway, she turns to look at me as we turn left. "Alright, the first place we'll go is the break room. Since no one ever does their work, it will probably be packed full of useless bitches," she sighs, but I can tell her words are playful. We approach the room quickly, as it was just a few doors down, close to the end of the hallway. She bursts through the door, just as a round of cheers and jaunts crescendos in the room.

A few people part just enough for us to see what all the commotion is about, but once we do, I can't help but laugh out loud. There's a woman sitting at the table, four empty pie containers surrounding her and one nearly empty one sitting directly in front of her, clearing as she shovels the chocolate into her mouth. In just a few moments she lifts the last forkful past her lips and raises her hands in the air as a man calls, "Time!" And dramatically presses the button on a stop watch. Everyone quiets, only hushed murmurs being heard around the room as he announces, "2:47 a new record!" 

The room erupts in whoops and screams, and the woman is quickly tossed up onto the shoulders of two intimidatingly large men, her arms still up in the air while she finishes swallowing before letting out a victory call.

"Karah! Karah! Karah! Karah!" everyone in the room chants, and soon Sammi gives in reluctantly to cheer with them, nudging me to do so as well. 

I join in with no hesitation, falling in love with my new coworkers immediately. Once the group has settled and set Karah back to her feet, they laugh and start collecting the dirty pans, stacking them one on top of the other while she climbs up onto a chair. 

"To everyone who didn't make it, I'd just like to say SUCK IT MOTHERFUCKERS! That's right, I can pack double the pie in half the time you can, you asshats! Time to collect," she says, waving towards herself. A few people grumble halfhearted words of defeat as some notes are passed around, and Karah is sure to count her money thoroughly before bowing once more, stepping off the chair and pushing it back into the table with a grin on her face. 

"Alright you lazy asses, time to pay attention for a minute," it takes me a few seconds to notice that Sammi is the one speaking, and has unhooked her arm from mine to motion towards us. "This is Phil Lester, he's new to design. He's amazing and sweet and hilarious and if you scare him off, I will not hesitate to cut you. Everyone welcome Phil."

"Hi, Phil," their conjoined voices practically scream the greeting at me and I laugh, waving a little. 

"Hi, everyone," I return. 

"Don't bother trying to learn names right, they all talk so much you'll have them all down by the end of the day," Sammi insists and I scan the room to try and memorize the smiling faces until I meet the eyes of a familiar one. 

Almost instantly, PJ averts his gaze to look at the floor and my eyebrows furrow slightly before Sammi's hand is on my back as she informs the crowd, "We're gonna move on, but if I catch you guys slacking off again, I'll be having a word with Grant!" 

As we leave, we're met with a plethora of scoffs and what sounds like "Yeah, right," or "How will you have a word with him when your tongue's down his throat?" and the like. She gives them the middle finger as he leave the room, giggles bubbling up her throat. 

"Okay, I'll show you around the offices now, then we'll get you nice and cozy in yours," she says lightly, holding my arm gently again, her touch sending waves of comfort through me. I do a double take at her words. 

"I get my own office!?"

She simply scoffs and waves me off, "Of course! Where else would you do your design work? We believe our employees need a calm, independent environment where they feel safe and comfortable to get their creative juices flowing. We've made most of the offices soundproof as well, because of how many people like to blast music or sing while they work. We've found it's less disruptive that way."

I can't help myself as my mind travels to Dan, imagining the endless things we could do in a soundproof office. I quickly shake the ideas from my head, silently scolding myself for thinking like a sex-crazed maniac. 

We get to the end of the hallway, and Sammi points to the lift, "And now we go up," she sighs, entering and pressing the button for the eleventh floor. When the door opens there are a huge amount of doors on either side of the hall. She points to the right side. "That's the accounting side. They're all nerds, but you've gotta love them. I mean you already know with PJ, but still." She shrugs and turns left. "This is design, you'll notice the abundance of color on this wall."

I have to pause to admire the artwork swirling around the walls, along with the pictures and drawings tacked onto the doors scattered down the corridor. "Wow," I breathe, dragging my fingers along the designs and sucking in a deep breath. 

"That's what we like to call an eyegasm," she laughs, and it's that heavenly noise that breaks me from my thoughts. I smile widely in return, trailing behind just on her heels as she rattles off the names donning the plates on each door. "And finally, the office belonging to the man of the hour," she takes her arm from mine to do jazz hands in front of the door. "We already got you a name plate!"

I furrow my eyebrows seeing it, a slow grin spreading across my face. "That's all sweet and dandy, but my name isn't _Daily Phil of Emo_ ," I laugh, instinctively reaching up to brush my fingers through my fringe. 

"Sweetie, have you looked at yourself?" she says, raising an eyebrow with a hand on her hip. I simply smile and she rolls her eyes, pushing it from the holder to reveal another plaque that correctly read _Phillip Lester._

"Uh huh," I reply simply, and she giggles while she opens the door to reveal an office the size of my living room, the wall opposite the door completely glass, revealing a gorgeous view of the London skyline. There are curtains to draw towards the center on either side, but they're drawn back at the moment.

"Tada!" she exclaims. "It's a tad on the small side compared to Grant's office, but he gets to keep it with all the spare money he has due to this-" she lifts her left hand "-naked ring finger!"

I raise an eyebrow, "Waiting on a proposal, are we? I've never known Mr. Gilligan as the type to settle down. Even when he was our landlord it was just one girl after ano-"

She shoves me, harder than I'd anticipated, and I bark out a laugh. "Don't mention those whores to me," she says, a smile on her face. "Anyways, let's take a little tour of the room," she says, lifting her arm for me to inspect the walls first. They're covered in dark paints, fairies clad in black and fishnet stockings with infinitely intricate wings curled around them. I trace the sharp curve of one of the wings before moving on to look at the dragons only a little farther down. "Jasmine was kind of a fantasy buff," she explains, as if the statement weren't obvious. 

"She was an incredible artist, too," I comment quietly.

"We often encourage our employees to redecorate their offices and paint over whatever was left behind by their predecessors, but we've had three people in this room since Jasmine, and no one has had the heart to replace her work," she shrugs, hopping onto the desk in the middle of the room. 

"Can you really blame them?" I ask softly. I know for a fact I won't be the one to break the trend. The art is far too beautiful for me to even think about changing it. She remains silent, waiting patiently until I finally finish, the awe passing over me when I look back to her, admiring her outfit for the first time considering her effortless modeling pose. She's wearing a knitted black pencil skirt, along with a velvety maroon colored top tucked in along the waist, unbuttoned low enough to show the pendant on her necklace. 

"Since you're at the end of the hallway, you get your own bathroom," she says nonchalantly, nodding to the door near the back of the room. I gasp in excitement, almost sprinting to look in the room, briefly acknowledging her laugh. The bathroom is a plain grey color all around, and the sink is a clear bowl raised above the counter, the faucet a shiny steel color. I reach out to touch it tentatively. Even the toilet looks like it could break under the touch of a finger.  

I leave the room to enter back into the office, finding Sammi in the same position, this time filing her nails. "You'll have to create an account in our programming, which shouldn't take you long. That easel is stocked with enough paper to last you until you rip it all out in a distressed fervor- Grant's words, not mine- and there will be more down the hall, along with charcoal pencils, pastels, even paints if that's how you wish to sketch your designs. For today just set up your account, maybe invite your boyfriend here for lunch. Just remember to close the curtains before you consummate this as your office. I'll make sure to walk him up here personally."

I scoff, about to bite back a mock-offended retort, but she's already winking and swaggering out of the office, closing the door behind her. I pull out my phone, and start dialing Dan without an ounce of reluctance.

***

By the time Sammi opens my door without so much as a knock or a warning and walks in with Dan, I've already come up with a clever password for my new account, that only took my seven tries in my attempt to incorporate at least one capitol letter, a number, an asterisk, a hyphen, a Norse myth and practically my whole soul. 

"It's about damn time," I complain, looking at the bottom right hand of the company-issued computer to see that it's almost 1 already. 

"Sorry, I stopped to get Chinese," Dan says, rolling his eyes at my impatience and lifting the bag as proof. 

"He's a good choice, Phil," Sammi says, giving him a little shove to stumble further into the room. "Remember to lock the door behind me," she instructs with a wink, and when she closes the door, I'm already jumping over the door, pushing Dan up against it, locking it under his arm. He drops the food when I lean forward and kiss him harshly. 

His hands come up to grip my head, and mine remain on the door on either side of his hips. He shudders and moans into my mouth, parting his lips to slide his tongue against mine. With barely any self control I start pushing his coat off of him, letting my hands fit under his shirt to run my fingers along his chest, letting my thumb skirt along his right nipple. 

He groans somewhat loudly against my mouth, realizing only a moment later that he should be quiet. He pulls away, panting already. "We're at your work, Phil, we ca-"

"The rooms are soundproof," I assure him, and he seems to process this for a moment before pulling me back to him.

Against my mouth he murmurs, "Nice office..." I moan in agreement, tripping backwards to close my drapes to block the rest of the world from the two of us. We end up in a difficult position, with my hands pulling the rope behind Dan's back as he kneads his hips against mine, which are trapped between him and the wall. Once I get them closed, and the office has darkened considerably, he starts working my shirt off of me. I toss it to the floor once we slide it off, and I practically rip his off, quickly unbuttoning his trousers in a strange fervor. 

I've never acted like a sex-starved lunatic, but since Dan, everything has changed again. So, whether it's the first time I've been so turned on at the thought of fucking him over my new desk, he seems all too happy with it, tossing a condom and a small, disposable packet of lube onto the desk before kicking his pants off, groaning when I harshly bend him over it, laughing in the midst of his lust. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please enjoyyyyyyyyyyy ;)   
> I like office sex, and since there isn't too much smut I'll be sure that this isn't the only chapter that incorporates it.   
> COMMENT PLEASE LOVES


	11. Chapter 11

Dan stands up straight, zipping his jeans and looking at me with a grin. "Damn, we should get you a new office more often," he laughs. 

I laugh in response, running a hand through the hair that's probably sticking up in every which way atop my head. "Yeah, maybe," I agree, grabbing his shirt by the collar and pulling him forward to kiss me. He laughs into my mouth, but lifts his hands to grasp my hair and try to flatten it down at the same time, ultimately pulling away to look at it and failing. He takes a step back and shrugs. 

"I should probably get go-"

He's interrupted by a knock at the door. I clear my throat and try haphazardly to fix my hair, making my way to unlock it and open it. In the doorway stands none Sammi with a wide and mischievous grin on her face. 

"Can I help you, Samantha?" I ask, tilting my head to the side a little. Her eyes travel downward and she giggles relentlessly. I follow her gaze to where my fly is down. I jump and zip it back up, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I hear Dan's laughter behind me and clear my throat. 

Through her laughs she manages to speak. "Remember when I told you the walls are soundproof?" she squeaks around her giggles. I already feel myself beginning to pale. "Well- that might not have been-" she collapses onto the door in a fit of belly laughs. "-entirely true!"

"No way," I whisper. Her cackling is infectious, forcing an involuntary grin on my embarrassed face. "Sammi, no."

"Sammi, _yes!"_ she giggles. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry-"

"Sammi!"

"I- I tell that to everyone, dear," she wipes at the tears escaping her eyes. "I've heard practically everyone in this building have sex," she shrugs, finally managing to gain control of herself. 

I turn around to gauge Dan's reaction, only to find him sitting on the edge of my desk, shoulders convulsing in laughter. "Daniel!" I scold. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Hey, I wasn't the one bending _you_ over a desk," he shrugs, and behind me Sammi shrieks. 

"I like him!" she announces, clapping her hands excitedly. 

"Sammi," I whine, unsure of exactly what I'm whining about. 

"Alright boys, well I'll leave you to it for round two-"

"Sammi!" I say louder this time, burying my face in my hands and groaning. She laughs again and this time I feel Dan's hand on my shoulder. 

"Sorry, baby, but I should be getting back home," he comments, and I can hear the smile in 

his voice. My stomach flutters hearing him call me baby, I'm unsure I'll ever get used to it again. I look up at him through my fingers, and he raises an eyebrow as if to ask where his goodbye kiss is. I'm about to reject him because Sammi is only a feet away, but I remember I can't really have any more shame around her since she just heard me fuck my boyfriend over a desk in the office I only just got assigned today. I sigh in defeat and remove my hands, leaning forward to kiss him. 

"I'll see you at home," I say dejectedly and turn to look at Sammi, who's grinning cheekily. 

"It was really nice to meet you, Daniel," she says, putting her hand out for him to shake. Being the equally as cheeky little shit he is, he takes her hand and kisses the back of it, making her squeal with delight. 

"Nice to meet you, too, Samantha," he smirks, and she bites her lip to hide a smile as he winks at me and walks away. 

Once he turns the corner, I face Sammi again, and let out a deep breath. "Sammi, I can't _believe_ you!" I scold, and she retreats into her fantastic laughter again. 

"Oh, baby, you know I'm just messing with you," she says, lightly hitting my arm. I pout a little and she rolls her eyes. "Well now that you've consummated your new office, I'd say you can get to work."

"Oh my god," I groan, sliding away from the door.

"Call me if you need anything sweetums, my extension is 676," she says, wiggling her fingers. "Toodles!" 

"Just one away from the devil's number," I mutter once she's out of my sight. 

"I heard that!" she calls from down the hall. I laugh a little before closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. Believe it or not, after Dan's little trip here, I'm just about ready to call it a day and go to sleep. I know, however, that would not be the best way to finish off my first day on the job, especially when half the floor probably heard me having sex with my boyfriend. 

So, albeit reluctantly, I push off the door and make my way to the easel to inspect the supplies I've been blessed with. There's endless sheets of paper, some of which has a strange texture to it that excites me. There's a little hanging shelf on the bottom that holds a thick black box. I pull it out and sit on the floor, setting it in front of me. I fiddle with the latch for a good minute before finally lifting it at the right angle and managing to open it. To my utter surprise and enjoyment, there's a ribbon in the center. I pull it and, as though it's some key to another heavenly dimension, six beautiful rows of colored pencils emerge from either side. 

I can't even stifle the gasp that flutters from within me, running my fingers along their curved edges. With a shiver of anticipation at the thought of using them, I close the box to inspect the drawers of my desk. Instead of standing up and walking, like a mature adult, I simply scoot over to it until I'm sitting in front of the right side, where two deep drawers await my searching. 

The bottom one has standard office supplies- post it notes, pens, mechanical pencils, a stapler- which still excites me, and the top one is filled to the brim with bottles of paint. I gasp, my eyes widening and scoot impossibly closer. The colors and shades range from the darkest brown to the brightest pink my mind could fathom, along with blacks and whites. 

The rest of the office unfolds in a similar fashion, leaving me giddy with excitement by the time I check the clock again. 3:30pm. 

I still have an hour and a half til I get to go home and be in Dan's arms again. I take a deep breath and pull out a sketching pencil and an abnormally large box of colored pencils, squeaking quietly and not even bothering to slide into my swivel chair before I get to work attacking a sketch pad with a new dress idea. 

The sleeves are completely lace, up until the middle fingers of each hand, where they wrap around like a ring. It's a tight fit to the rest of the body, hugging the hips of the person wearing it. The lace wraps up their neck about two inches and plunges down their chest. The rest of the dress is silk and goes just barely past their knees, still hugging them tightly. Once I have the body sketched out and the design, I get to work on a face. I've never been able to draw just a body, or a mannequin, it freaks me out when bodies don't have any defining features. 

Finally, once the hair is finished, I place it on the floor- my own version of taking a step back- and give it a final look, satisfied with my work. I sigh, turning my phone on to see that I could have left twenty minutes ago. Figures, though, I always seem to indulge myself too deeply into my work to the point where I lose track of time. 

I hop up, tossing the sketchbook on my desk and stretching my arms above my head. I wince in pain as a tight muscle spasms in my back and breath in harshly. 

A knock startles me and I practically fall over, barely catching the desk in time. "Uh- come in!" I call and clear my throat in an attempt to compose myself. The door opens slowly to reveal a curly haired, green eyed, smiling face. 

"Hey there, Philly, how was your first day?" PJ asks, closing the door behind him. 

I clear my throat. "Oh, I- uh- it was pretty good," I stutter my words out, running a hand through my mess of hair. "How are things with you and, uh, Chris?"

His smile falters a little, but he doesn't lose it. "Well, he moved back in, thankfully. I don't know if he's forgiven me entirely, but I'm sure he'll come around," he insists, and my eyes trail down to his neck, where the bitemarks I'd given him have faded but not disappeared. I swallow in what must be shame. 

"You and Dan are doing well then?" he asks, and I look up, smiling when I hear Dan's name. 

"Oh- yeah, we're great," I reply, grinning from ear to ear. "It's incredible to be around him all the time again, you know? I definitely missed him."

"That's great," he nods. "Well... do you need a ride home, or...?" he leaves the question open and I contemplate. Dan probably wouldn't be thrilled to hear that I'm getting a ride from someone I slept with not even a week ago. 

"Y'know what, no, I'll be fine," I smile uncomfortably and sigh. "I appreciate the offer, though."

"Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow then, Phil," he says, raising his arm to wave goodbye. 

"Oh- actually, I only work three days a week so I have off tomorrow," I shrug. 

"O-kay.... Then I'll see you Wednesday," he nods and leaves before I can say another word. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding and drop my head into my hands. 

As much as I'd thought sleeping with PJ wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our friendship, I couldn't have been more wrong. By doing so we'd both almost destroyed the relationships that had meant the most to us, and now whenever we talked to one another it was insanely awkward. I groan in frustration, but once I'm positive there's no chance I'll run into him downstairs I hop off of my desk and grab my bag from the ground, stuffing the sketchbook into it and locking my office before stepping out. 

I figure Mr. Gilligan would appreciate it if I stop by his office before leaving, so I wander around the building aimlessly, trying to recall a single thing Sammi showed me on her tour, but I end up running into him by accident before nearing his office at all. 

I stop in my tracks as I see what's only a few mere feet in front of me just as I turn the corner. Sammi is pressed up against the wall, hands pinned above her head and legs wrapped around Mr. Gilligan's hips. Their kissing seems pretty intense, so I attempt to take a step backwards and leave before they notice my presence, but- in no surprising way- the wooden floor creaks beneath my feet. Sammi pulls away first, turning her head to look, not the slightest bit embarrassed about her compromising position, even when Mr. Gilligan starts kissing the side of her neck opposite to me. 

"Philly!" she calls. "How was your first day?"

"I- uh-" as much as I'd love to be casual about this, it pains me to see Mr. Gilligan doing something like this so shamelessly in front of me. Believe me, I'm all for doing whatever you want, but seeing a father figure be so blatantly sexual and- dare I say- _horny_ in front of me makes me just a little uncomfortable. 

"Oh, honey, you're not that flustered are you? We all heard you having sex today, baby you can't be shy now," she shakes her head and Mr. Gilligan pulls away to laugh, releasing her arms and taking a step back to let her down from the wall, but hooking his fingers through hers right away.  

"Hey, that's not fair, you told me my office was soundproof!" I say, pointing my finger at her. They both laugh and she waves me off.

"Well, baby, do you need a ride home? We'd be happy to drop you off," she shrugs. 

I shrug, shaking my head. "I can just catch a cab-"

"I'll take that as a yes," Mr. Gilligan says with a wink at me and I laugh breathlessly. He's definitely a good looking man, and he's got the heart of a saint, so I can understand why someone as young and gorgeous as Sammi would go for him. 

"Come on, hon, let's get it going," she says as they approach me, and smacks me on the ass. I gasp and shiver a little when I hear Mr. Gilligan growl lowly. "Oh, calm down, baby, he's as gay as they get."

I gasp, a hand landing on my chest as they both erupt into a fit of laughter. "Excuse me, I'll have you know that I dated a woman for over a year, so take that."

We approach the lift and Mr. Gilligan presses the down button, still chuckling. Sammi raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah, and how'd that end?" 

I bend over to look her in the eyes as we enter the small area and say smugly, "She cheated on me, so _suck it!"_

"Yeah and who are you dating now?"

I clear my throat and avert my eyes, "Dan..."

"That's what I thought," she giggles as we reach the ground floor. 

"Bye, everyone!" Mr. Gilligan waves to the sparse staff scattered around the lobby and they wave back as we walk out, albeit far less enthusiastically. 

 The walk through the parking lot is comfortably quiet as the couple next to me holds hands and giggles softly to themselves, and I do a double take as we approach a beeping vehicle. Mr. Gilligan's car is... gorgeous. My jaw definitely goes slack as I run my fingers along the hood and shudder. 

"At least take her out to dinner first, son," he chuckles and I laugh a little, still stunned by the shining beauty in my midst. 

"Come on, baby get into the car," Sammi demands, bumping me with her hip. 

I reluctantly oblige, opening the door gently and closing it the same way, too nervous to be anything but careful with her. "Mr. Gilligan, dear sweet Jesus your car is amazing," I gush and Sammi scoffs as he starts it. My eyes almost roll back as I hear the engine purr to life and he smiles smugly at her, pulling out of his parking spot. 

"You know, you can call me Grant, Phil," he corrects, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. 

"I know I can, I just... I don't know it feels _wrong,"_ I admit with a little laugh and he smiles in return. 

"I understand, son," he nods. "Now where am I taking you?" he removes a hand from the wheel to place it on Sammi's thigh and she immediately covers it with her own. I rattle off my new address distractedly and continue observing their admirable relationship. 

"Phil?" Sammi says expectantly, turned around to look at me, Mr. Gilligan's hand still on her leg, just much farther up this time. 

"What?" I ask, realizing I must have zoned out again. 

"I asked how long you've known Dan, baby," she laughs. "Somebody's a little lovestruck, huh?"

I sigh deeply, and laugh lightly. "Not too much," I say with a shrug, though it's an outright lie. I'm practically obsessed with Dan. I could just sit in a plain white room and think about him all day long. I could kiss him until I ran out of breath. I could trace his body with my fingers until they're numb. I could just study his eyes for hours and never be bored. "I've known him for almost ten years now."

"And you only _just_ started dickin' that boy down!?" she bursts. 

"Samantha," Mr. Gilligan says quietly, though not much malice lies behind it. 

"Hush now, baby," she says distractedly to him, though I notice the way her thumb runs along his hand gently. "You mean to tell me you only admitted to him you loved him and wanted to fuck him all day long because some _girl_ cheated on you? What are you blind?"

My mouth opens a little and I stutter, but no real answer escapes me. 

"A bond like you two have doesn't just form within the course of a month or two, so that means you've been in love with that kid for years, and you only started dating him because a bitch hurt you," she tsks her tongue and shakes her head. "Explain."

I breathe in deeply, trying to figure out what to tell her just as Mr. Gilligan interrupts, "You don't have to answer that."

"He damn well does if he wants to keep his job!" 

"Baby, you're too nosey," he says fondly. 

"You love it," she says, still never taking her eyes off of me. I shift under her gaze, ready to spill my guts to this woman. 

"I do," he says quietly. 

"Come on, emo boy, tell me your story," she commands and this time I don't waste a second. 

"I've known Dan since his first year of high school, I was a year older than him and he became my best friend almost immediately. For the next three years we were inseparable and we both had feelings for one another and knew it, too, but never did anything about it. At my graduation party I was still debating whether I wanted to go away for Uni or stay in the area to be around him and my family. After everyone left the party he was going to sleep over and we ended up sleeping together-" Sammi squeaks, "-afterwards I asked him whether he thought if I should stay or not and he obviously said he wanted me to stay, so some stupid, stupid part of me thought that meant I had to leave because I couldn't just stay near someone for something as trivial as love," the both of them scoff. "Anyways, then I was at uni and got hammered and was ready to get into a fight with this mountain of a man. Somehow, someway I got a hold of Dan and he came to pick me up and brought me back to his house. He was hurt by me, but we still loved one another. We slept together again" -this time it was more like a screech- "but after that neither of us contacted the other for almost five years, then a few months ago I was going to a celebration gala with my girlfriend Zoey and her best friend Louise brought Dan as her date; we reconnected and he tried to make me jealous, successfully, by sleeping with this annoying American and the next morning I found out she cheated on me so Dan invited me to stay with him, I accepted. I came to apply for this job and saw PJ, an old friend from Uni, I asked Dan not to sleep with him because he was kind of a slut and he got mad at me for assuming he would. One night I came into the kitchen and saw him making out with this guy named Troye, I left, slept with PJ to spite Dan and woke up to a million texts and calls from him, I got home and he saw my hickies, and we had angry sex to make up, then professed our love for each other. He almost left me when he found out it was PJ I had sex with but he forgave me, thank god, and now we're together and I love him more than life itself," I finish and take in a huge breath, surprised at how quickly I'd spoken. I breathe heavily for a few moments before looking up to realize that the car was stopped in front of my building and both Mr. Gilligan and Sammi are staring at me in surprise. 

"That.. is such a beautiful story!" Sammi gushes. I roll my eyes. 

"Get out of here and sex that guy up!" Mr. Gilligan commands and my jaw drops. 

"Mr. Gilligan!" 

"Grant's right, go fuck that boy!" 

I whimper a little at their profanity and mumble a thanks for the ride home, but scramble to get out of the car and unlock the door. Once I'm inside I realize just how much I want to kiss Dan. I don't even have to have sex with him, I just want to kiss his stupid face and cuddle his stupid self and run my fingers through his dumb hair. 

I race up the stairs, sprinting into our flat and fumbling with the key until I get the door open, closing it behind me and calling for him. "Dan!? Dan, where are you?" I shout, knowing that if I simply walk into the living room, he'll likely be there. 

Thankfully, though, he comes strolling into the kitchen with a confused look on his face, "Why are you yelling-"

"Dan, oh my god," I pant, just now catching up with all the running I did. I approach him quickly, placing my hands on either side side of his face. "I just... I love you so much," I confess, as though it's the first time I'm saying it to him. I take a moment to admire his beautiful smile before kissing it. I kiss him softly a few times before leaning my forehead against his, leaning into his touch when he places his hands on my sides. "How did I ever fucking leave you?"

"I ask myself that exact question every day."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry everyone I'm the worst kind of author. I'm gonna try reaaalllyyyy hard to update regularly, at least like once a week okay? Okay. Ily all pleaaase comment


	12. Chapter 12

"Do you want to do something tonight?" I ask eagerly, still holding Dan close to me. His fingers flex on my sides a little as he thinks about it, and I distractedly kiss the corner of his mouth. 

"I mean, there are a few things I wouldn't mind doing..."

I gasp and jump backwards a little, but not far enough to lose his touch. "Daniel!"

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, pulling away. "Fine, what do you want to do then?" he asks with a little smirk on his face. 

"Well, we can always do that later," I promise, yanking his closer by his waist to kiss him thoroughly again. He hums in appreciation and his hands wander to the waistband of my jeans. I smack it away and pull back. "Your a nymphomaniac," I say and he simply shrugs. 

"Well then, what's your plan for the night?" he asks. 

"Let's go mini golfing!" 

"Dear god."

"Or see a movie!"

"Or, instead we could-"

I gasp, jumping a little, "Or go on a real date!"

"Aren't all the things you just suggested date ideas?" he asks and I scoff. 

"No, Dan, they're just activities that sometimes people do on dates! Damn you're bad at this," I roll my eyes. 

"Alright, let's see a movie," he finally gives in and I gasp. "Something interesting, no lovey-dovey shit, got it?"

"Got it!" I agree, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him to me. His arms wrap quickly around my waist as I kiss him. He parts his lips and moans in appreciation when our tongues touch. His hands slide down to my ass, then my thighs, urging me to jump and wrap my legs around his waist, which I wait to do until he moans needily. Finally, he walks forward, bearing my weight until we reach the counter and he stands between my legs. He starts lifting my shirt and I stop him. "Dan," I whine, "not until later."

He huffs a deep breath. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?" he growls, trying to walk away, a clear bulge in his jeans. 

I smile at him and tug him back by his arm, kissing him again, but hopping off the counter. I let my hand wander lower and unzip his jeans, and his breath catches in his throat. His jaw goes slack as I take control over our kisses. He moans a little as my hand finds his length over his boxers. His hands grasp my biceps, to keep him upright I assume, and I smile against his mouth in satisfaction. 

I let go slowly and drop to my knees, grinning up at him before taking him into my mouth.

***

"Moana? What the actual fuck, Phil, I said no lovey dovey shit," Dan whines, acting like he despises corny stuff. I roll my eyes at the obvious dishonesty, evident as he twines our fingers together and rubs his thumb along the back of my hand. 

"It's supposed to be really really good! She's the first Polynesian princess!" I exclaim and he chuckles. 

"Well, I'll give it an A for representation, but nothing too drastic yet," he says. 

"So you're up for seeing it!?"

"Phil, if it will make you happy, I'll see whatever the fuck you want," he replies, tugging my hand closer for a kiss. I don't hold onto it long, seeing as I'm not the biggest advocate of PDA. 

"Well, well, well," a familiar, grating voice interrupts as we pull away. I freeze, and see irritation cross Dan's features before quickly shifting to anger. 

"Zoe?" I say warily before slowly turning to look at her. She stands with her arms crossed, a smug expression on her face. 

"Looks like I wasn't the only unfaithful one in this relationship," she retorts sarcastically. "How's this going for you, Ph-"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now!?" Dan interrupts before I even have a chance to speak. "Phil was heartbroken when you cheated on him! We didn't even start thinking about dating until like a week and a half ago! Don't you _dare_ try to make yourself feel better by assuming that he cheated on you, too, because Phil wouldn't have even _thought_ about it."

She stands, wide-eyed and fearful of Dan, blinking a few times before opening her mouth to speak. "You know I was- I wasn't being serious. I support this fully, I just- I was-"

"It's okay, Zoe, I know what you meant," I say, giving Dan a dirty look. He glares right back and I turn to her again. "How, uh, how are you doing then?" I ask, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly. 

She shrugs a little, nervous to speak in front of Dan, I assume. "I've been alright. I started dating this guy from work, Alfie, he's pretty... he's pretty great, you know?"

I nod, trying to look interested. "Would this be the guy you...?"

"That would be the one," she confirms, laughing a little awkwardly. "Well, I should get back to the movie, I just saw you on my way back from the loo. Again, super happy for you two, sorry about the confusion. Phil, give me a call soon, we should catch up sometime."

I nod a little as she walks away and Dan tugs on me. I turn to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You won't be calling her."

"Oh shut the fuck up," I roll my eyes,  leaning forward to peck him on the lips. Before I can reach him, he turns his head to the side and I sigh, letting our hands fall apart. "Whatever, Dan." Knowing him, he'll start getting lonely in the theatre and will jump me where I sit. Knowing this, we approach the box office and he looks at his phone, obviously disinterested while I raise my eyes to the employee. 

"Two for Moana ple-" 

I'm cut off at the sight of a familiar caramel haired man, who seems to look more than thrilled to be seeing Daniel again. "Oh my god, Dan!" he exclaims, and Dan's head raises indifferently before his eyes widen and he swallows thickly. 

"Oh! Uh, hi James-"

"Chase," I correct with an eyeroll.

"-Chase," he grins easily fixing his mistake. "How you doing?"

I scoff a little, folding my arms over my chest. 

"I'm pretty good, man. How are you? How have things been?" he asks, leaning on the counter and flipping his stupid hair. 

"Oh I'm great," Dan replies smoothly, smirking. My eyebrows furrow at his careless attitude. 

"Alright, well maybe we can catch up sometime, go to dinner or something," he says shrugging with a smile. 

I roll my eyes again, almost worried they'd fall out of my head if this situation got anymore cringe-y. 

"Well, I don't know about that, but I'll take two for Moana," he says with a little shrug and Chase complies, rejecting Dan's money and handing him the tickets. "Well thanks, Chase."

"Call me sometime," he replies with a wink and Dan nods. 

"Maybe sometime," he says absentmindedly before trying to reach for my hand as we turn around. I smack his hand away and fold my arms again, irritated with him. "Baby-"

I simply shake my head and start towards the theatre. I continue to ignore him and avoid making contact with his pleading, beautiful brown eyes. 

"What? I just got us free tickets!"

"By flirting with some random guy you slept with not even a month ago!" I yell back. 

"Oh yeah? Would you prefer to have me go back and pay for them?!" he says, flipping his hair. 

I stop at the entrance of the theatre. "Yes. I would."

He scoffs, "Well, I won't be doing that. I just saved twenty bucks by never calling him."

"Whatever, Dan."

I make my way into the theatre again, and he follows closely after, grumbling quietly under his breath. I realize of course, that every single stomp of my foot is a drastic overreaction to the fact that my boyfriend simply acknowledged someone from his past and happened to save some cash, but that is, in fact, irrelevant. I can't help the fact that I've missed out on years of being able to call Dan my own, or hold him or even tell his ex-boyfriends to fuck off. And since we just started dating again, I can't exactly unleash my possessive side onto this random guy he happened to spend the night with. That type of realism has to take at least 2 solid months!

I find seats all the way in the back of the theatre, at the top of the staircase, not only for the view, but also because the spiteful side of me enjoys watching Dan pant as he hikes up the last few steps. Thankfully, we happen to be the only two in the back row, and the remainder of the seats are surprisingly scarce, meaning I can throw as many backhanded comments at him as are necessary. 

I sit down, crossing my arms right away and fixating my eyes on the previews flashing across the screen. 

"Phil? Do you want me to get you some popcorn?" he asks sweetly, facing me in his chair. I refuse to look at him, because I know the moment I meet his wide puppy dog eyes I'll cave and wipe away my irrationality. 

"I'm fine," I reply, although I want nothing more than to milk this for all it's worth, and see just what petty lengths he'll go to to get me to forgive him despite the fact that he did no wrong. 

"Are you sure?" he asks in a whisper. I nod and can see his composure waver out of the corner of my eye before he perks up a little again. "Well... can I have a kiss?" 

This time I do look at him, since he was the one to reject my attempt to kiss him. And, just as I suspected, I last only three seconds before I lean forward and oblige to his wishes, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth, letting my hands reach up to cup his face. 

He makes a small noise of surprise before responding, letting his hands rest over mine. I pull away momentarily, swallowing as I glance at his swollen lips, then clearing my throat and returning to my chair. 

We sit quietly for a while, and when his hand sneaks over the arm rest and covers mine, I let him weave our fingers together, rolling my eyes fondly at him.

"Can I have another one?"   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's super short and i suck and i'm sorry. don't hate me but pls comment. also i know this chapter was shit but the next one will be better okay? okay love you


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